The Potemkin Village
by Freddo
Summary: This is Part Six of my AU Star Blazers story Rikasha Incident as, in the year 2202, the war against Ekogaru and Rikasha continues while Yvona Josiah continues to cause problems. Chapter 5 reedited and smoking references removed.
1. Chapter 1

* * *

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

STAR BLAZERS---THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE

Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz

* * *

ACT ONE--IN THE DEPTHS…

* * *

I. FRUSTRATION

Space Battleship Argo

The Ambergis Rift

Friday, January 15, 2202

0940 Hours Spacetime

* * *

In a quiet, isolated room in Sickbay usually used for intensive care patients or for occasional temporary storage of the dead (Nova Wildstar had lain there in 2200 when she had been comatose and was expected to quietly die in that room), a rather noisy little "conference" was taking place.

"I said, _stop_ it," pleaded Vorston of Rikasha as he was thrown against the bulkhead again by Space Marine Corporal Vance Diamond. "I meant my surrender."

"Shaddap," snapped Corporal Diamond as he hit the prisoner in the mouth with a fist wrapped in a web belt. "Napoli, you kick 'im again…"

"Right," said Napoli. "This is for the _Westhampton Beach_, you sonovabitch!" At that, the bare-chested Vorston took a kick in the crotch.

The door whizzed open, and Napoli, Diamond, and Ensign Paul Hemsford, who was supervising the "party" stiffened, ready for battle as Bryan Hartcliffe strode in, resplendent in his Black Tiger uniform.

"No, cool it, lads. I don't mind what yer doin' to 'im…not one bit," said Hartcliffe.

"Why not?" said Hemsford as the door closed.

"Because I just talked with Angie. My suspicions are confirmed, orange boy," said Hartcliffe with an evil grin. "I found out yer mates not only put me wife in harem rags, but your lot also raped her. So, I have to get me licks in, too. Take that, ya orange FREAK!"

Hartcliffe knocked Vorston down and began to kick him in the head. Hemsford followed with a kick to the prisoner's ribs.

"I wanna get in there again," said Hartcliffe. "Move it, Hemsford."

"No…cool it…Wildstar wants this joker alive, not dead."

Hartcliffe smiled and spat on the prostrate Vorston. "Ah think he'd look better dead. How's about we say he fell down a stairwell? Bloody animal…he's worse than the Gamilons."

* * *

On the _Argo's_ bridge, Commander Mark Venture stood looking on as Sandor and Royster worked on Homer's communications board. "How much longer will it be until it's fixed?" asked Venture.

"At least another thirteen hours," said Sandor as he pulled his head out from under the console. "We're still getting the damaged circuits out."

"How did this happen?"

"Easy," said Royster. "When the stars went nova in the Pellias region, a burst of energy also traveled through hyperspace…probably having something to do with how this Ekogaru finally destroyed the planet. Every comm unit in the fleet was burned out by this energy surge. We've had to communicate with the Gamilons and Pellians via signal lights"

"The surge was a bit like the one that happened when Trelaina first tried to communicate with us…but far worse," said Sandor. "This Ekogaru's mind-energy must be stronger by far than Trelaina's was."

"Ekogaru's mind-energy, as you call it, isn't simply his own," said a female voice at the aft part of the _Argo's_ bridge.

"Aliscea," said Venture. "What are you doing awake now? I thought you were exhausted from the effort you had to expend to guide us here."

"I can't afford to rest for long," she said. "Ekogaru is still reaching out for us. And his mind-energy isn't one hundred percent natural, either. It's partially enhanced by his Fortress, which has just come about twelve thousand lightyears closer as we've rested."

"How do you know the whereabouts of his…Fortress?"

"Commander Venture, I can probe forth with my mind. I can tell you at the present time that his Fortress is still many millions of lightyears away, far beyond the edge of the Great Magellenic Cloud…."

The lift doors opened again, and everyone was surprised to see Captain Wildstar and Nova emerging onto the bridge in full uniform.

"Mark, I'm reassuming command," said Derek.

"But I thought that Doctor Sane ordered you to rest for twenty-four hours," said Venture.

"He did. But my fever's subsiding, as is Nova's."

"Nova, I thought your job was to keep him in Sickbay," snapped Mark.

"It was," she replied. "But he insisted upon getting up, which I'm not one hundred percent happy about."

"But what about you?"

"When he insisted upon getting up, I insisted upon following him to nurse him," she said as she took back her Cosmo-Radar from Parsons. "What are your orders, Captain?"

"Venture, what sort of information have we received from the Gamilons?" said Derek as he sat down.

"They'll have their comm systems back up faster than we will…and they'll be able to beam a message to Earth for us before we can communicate with Earth ourselves."

"Once we have our comm systems up, we will have to part company with the Gamilons," said Aliscea.

"Why is that?" asked Wildstar.

"As long as…" said Aliscea as she held herself up with a visible effort by leaning against Paul Rosstowski's chair at the Artillery station…"we and my mother are together, we can be more easily eliminated by the Rikashans or R'Khells. For the moment, we may have made peace with a few Rikashan officers, but they still represent a threat to us at large, since they follow the agenda of their "god"…Ekogaru."

"They worship that maniac?" said Dash. "Great. So I guess it's their "sacred duty" to wipe us, what remain of the Pellians, and the Gamilons across the face of the Universe, right?"

"You put it crudely, but you're essentially correct," said Aliscea. As she spoke, she grasped Paul's hand.

"They can have the Gamilons, but not us," said Homer.

Tell him…said her voice in his mind.

Tell him what? _t_hought Paul, trusting that she could read his thoughts.

hought Paul, trusting that she could read his thoughts.

That you don't feel well...that I don't feel well…

I don't feel one hundred percent right…but why does it matter?

It is part of the Shalinskar ritual. We were interrupted by the attacks. We have to be together again…in an intimate manner…to finish creating the bond-link.

"But…we can't," said Paul out loud, aware they were being watched._ …not on this ship…anyhow," _he thought._. Aliscea…we're married per your people's law…but we're not married according to EDF regulations!_

"Then leave it to me…" gasped Aliscea.

"What were you two just talking about?" asked Wildstar.

"A matter of grave importance to both of us," said Aliscea. "But, first, we have to part company with the Gamilons. My mother and I are in accord in this. She is trying to convince Desslok…and I am trying to convince you. She and Desslok will take our people to a temporary place of sanctuary on a planet the Gamilons have established as a temporary provisional capital for what remains of their Empire. However, we must take off on a long quest…to intercept Ekogaru before his Fortress breaks through the Great Magellenic Cloud in two of your months on his way towards your Earth. He will reach Earth by what you call late May or early June of this year if he is not stopped. That is…we have about one hundred and thirty days to stop Ekogaru and his Fortress …or Earth may well suffer the fate of Pellias."

Wildstar, Nova, Venture and Sandor looked at each other in complete shock. _One hundred and thirty days to stop a menace that we know very little about…a menace worse than either the Gamilons or the Comet Empire?_ thought Derek. _How in God's Name are we supposed to do that? It'll take a miracle!_

The doors to the bridge came open again, and Hemsford came through, accompanied by two Space Marines, and Vorston, the Rikashan officer who had given himself up earlier at the end of the battle.

"Our prisoner said he has somethin' to tell you," said Hemsford. Wildstar gave the Marine a slightly dirty look for a moment…it looked like the Marines (and Hartcliffe, even though Derek didn't know that) had given Vorston a little bit of "special treatment" in the brig and Sickbay that just happened to be in the form of cuts and bruises all over his face.

"Yes…what is it?" asked Wildstar.

"Sir, I must help you brief your crew," cried Vorston. "Notwithstanding…the issues some of them have with me."

"He ain't got no issues," said Hemsford. "He fell in the head, right, Vorston?"

"Right…" moaned Vorston feebly. "You must let me help you."

"What?" said Derek. "Vorston, with all respect, you're a prisoner…a prisoner who has sought asylum with us…but still a prisoner. Remember that. I don't exactly condone the special "welcome" that our Marines have evidently just given you, but, remember, even as a fellow soldier, you were on the side that was trying to kill us not too long ago back there on Pellias. What is it?"

"I know something of Rikasha's plan for your people. It is not pleasant. They have just declared a holy war against anyone in the Milky Way…as you call the Great Galaxy…who will not accept overlordship of our Lord Zaden or the sacred discipline of our R'Khell religious order and the worship of Ekogaru the Great War God they serve. They are planning a great Sweep of the Milky Way to destroy all those who will not them serve. In mercy's name, I beg you return to Earth and warn your people. Ready them for war! It pains me to say so, but my people have become corrupt. They can be beaten if you take the advantage and are ready to strike before the _ji'had_ begins in full force. I know where their bases are. I can help you!"

"I'd love to believe you," said Wildstar. "However, you were recently fighting against us…and we have an important mission of our own," he said, glancing at Aliscea. "Hemsford, take him to the Intelligence office. He will have to be debriefed with the assistance of our lie detector equipment later today before we can take any strategic decisions based upon his advice. I would also recommend a special private briefing afterwards before we can believe him. I'm sorry Vorston, but this is for our security as well as yours. Take him away, Hemsford. And no more Marine-style briefings with this man for now…got it?"

"Yessir," said Hemsford while he thought, _Damnit…just five more minutes with me and my troops, and we'd find out if this dirtbag is lying or not!_

After Hemsford left, Wildstar said, "Aliscea, after this man is interrogated by our intelligence force, I was wondering…is there any way for you to probe his mind to tell if he's telling the truth or not?"

"There is…and, then, we must be on our way to confront Ekogaru. Only I know how to stop him…but I must tell you something first…"

"Aliscea…you don't look well…," said Derek.

"When Paul and I were together….we were interrupted by the enemy attack. We were completing a special ritual known as _Shalinskar_…which forms a mental bond. We must be together in…a private way in the VIP Suite you gave me to finish the ritual…but Paul tells me you must see to it we are married…first….without this…I may well die….we must…"

And, at that, Aliscea collapsed, and so did Paul.

"My God!" cried Nova as she got up to tend to them. "They're out. Both of them. Derek…we need medics…."

"Right away," said Wildstar, as he thought…_We can't let her die on us…she might well know the only way to stop Ekogaru…but how do we stop the Rikashans at the same time?_

* * *

**II. AN ODD SITUATION **

Earth: The Megalopolis

Earth Defense Headquarters, Main Lobby

Friday, January 15, 2202

0951 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Yvona Josiah, still in her supernally-given changed "shape" as "Nova", walked through the lobby of Earth Defense Headquarters, wearing a white high-collared greatcoat of Nova's over one of her Headquarters Staff uniforms, feeling rather amused by the short skirt and high-heeled pumps she wore with the uniform.

In the commissary, she bought two donuts and a cup of coffee, smiling a little as she left a number of her cult's tracts under a candy box when she was sure she wasn't being watched.

Remembering the map of HQ she had memorized last night, she then found the nearest lift in the lobby and went up several floors. Stopping at a glass office door marked "COMMANDER:EARTH DEFENSE FORCES", she walked through the sliding door into an outer office, laughing to herself as she watched a young woman dressed like herself cleaning out a desk in the outer office.

"Ma'am…you're a bit early," said the young dark-haired Adjutant. "We weren't expecting you until 1030."

"I'm a little…rusty at this," said "Nova". "I thought I'd need to reacquaint myself with my old desk. Did you tell the Commander, yet?"

The door to the inner office opened and Commanding General Charles Singleton came out. He stared at "Nova" for a moment, and then stared at his Adjutant.

"I…I just received your message this morning, Nova," said the Commander. "When did you decide to come home?"

"A few days ago…when I learned I was pregnant," said "Nova". "When Derek said that anyone who didn't wish to fight against Yvona and her crew on the captured _Potemkin_ were free to come home if they liked, I took up the offer…for the sake of the baby. Have you heard from the _Argo_ yet? I've heard you lost touch with Derek and everyone else!"

"No…we haven't heard from them yet," said the Commander after a long pause. "I was hoping you could shed some light into their whereabouts. I've freed up your old office over there. I'd like some star charts as to where they were last, along with a trace on their projected course, as best as you can remember it."

"Sir…if I can ask…why? I'm a bit tired," whimpered "Nova".

"It's easy…so we can make certain to listen to hails from that general area through our solar system comm net. Surely you haven't forgotten something as basic as that, Lieutenant? You used to do course projections like that for me at a moment's notice last year when you were serving here."

"I'm sorry, sir. I…I'll get right on it," said "Nova" who had broken out into a convincing cold sweat…largely because Yvona Josiah had no _idea _what Singleton was asking for. She was discovering that stepping into Nova's Size Six shoes was not going to be an easy job.

"Thank you. And if you need to rest…with the baby and all…just let me know," said the Commander sympathetically. "And one more thing?"

"Yessir?"

"Congratulations to you and Derek."

"Thank you, sir," said "Nova". She gave a shaky salute, and stepped into Nova's old office. Or…at least…into what Yvona _hoped_ was her niece's old office. Singleton shook his head a little and hit a code on his intercom.

I don't need anyone listening to this…and I know she could easily eavesdrop if she were so inclined, thought the Commander.

After "Nova" left, the old Adjutant, who was named Vanessa Rodriguez, said, "Sir, if you don't need me, I'll go back downstairs."

"No…not yet."

"Sir?" asked Rodriguez with a raised eyebrow. "You….you have your old Adjutant back…at least until the morning sickness and swollen ankles and all that stuff hits, that is."

"Vanessa, I'm going to be blunt," said the Commander in a very low voice. "Don't you think that what we just saw was a great performance?"

"Sir? Permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"I worked with Nova last year. If that's really her, unless the pregnancy has really flipped her out, than I'm full of crap."

"Minus the profanity, Rodriguez…my thoughts exactly. If the _real_ Wildstar was expecting, I don't think she'd be back here on Earth at all. While she's occupied, you download those retinal scans and compare them against Wildstar's real service record even better than the scanner does. And restrict Lieutenant Wildstar's computer access to all files classified or above. If she asks why, I'll tell her that, given her exhaustion, Intelligence is just asking to have her held back a little from critical work until we vet her health and mental stability. That's another test. Unless she's really sick, the real Wildstar would be as mad as a hornet over this with her work ethic. And one last thing…"

"Sir?"

"Tell Communications to redouble their efforts in contacting the _Argo_. If I can talk to Captain Wildstar today, and discover the real Nova is back on the Argo, that woman, whomever she is, is going to be under arrest before this duty shift ends. Got that?"

"Yessir."

"Good. And if that _is _really Nova Wildstar, she will have my sincere apologies before the day is out. You know what to do, Vanessa. Get to it."

"Yessir."

* * *

III. PREPARATIONS OF VARIOUS COLORS AND FLAVORS

Space Battleship Argo

The Ambergis Rift

Friday, January 15, 2202

1229 Hours Spacetime

* * *

In Sickbay, as the real Nova, Dr Sane, and Captain Wildstar looked on, a now-conscious Aliscea sat on an examining table, sipping at some broth from a cup. Not too far away, Angie Hartcliffe lay in her bed, silent, shutting out the whole world for the time being.

"Does that help?" asked Dr. Sane.

"It does…thank you."

"Then let's get you a real meal," said Nova.

"I'm not hungry," said Aliscea. "Remember, what I just came out of was a healing trance. That's why Paul just woke up a while ago, too," she said, gesturing towards an equally pale Rosstowski on another examining table nearby.

"We see now that you're linked…whatever affects you affects Paul, and vice-versa," said Derek. "It's 1229. Do you think you can hold out until fourteen hundred or so?"

"Why?"

"I've signed some waivers. Rabbi Greenberg is going to be joining you and Paul Rosstowski in marriage at fourteen hundred in front of the whole crew. Then, after a party, you two can have the next day alone together."

"Good…because I think we'll have to be off on our quest soon," said Aliscea.

Derek nodded. "Yes. But…meaning no disrespect…please remember who's in command of this ship."

"Of course," said Aliscea with a slight glare flashing in her dark eyes for a moment.

The phone rang. "Yes?" said Dr. Sane. "Captain….it's for you."

"Yes?" said Derek.

"This is Sandor. The communications system is back on-line. We can talk to Earth again. And, Wildstar, we received a message from the Commander. He wants to speak to you right away…and to have Nova with you if she's available."

"Of course," said Derek. "Nova?"

"Yessir?" she said in a slightly cold voice.

"We need to speak to the Commander…together…as soon as possible. Communications have just been restored."

"Derek, why do you need me there? I have work here, with Aliscea."

"No you don't," said Doctor Sane. "We can handle them without you."

Nova gave Dr. Sane a very dirty look before her eyes settled on her husband. She looked like she wanted to burn a hole straight through him with those brown eyes of hers, and her white-booted foot tapped the deck with suppressed impatience.

"Thanks, Doc. Lieutenant Wildstar, the reason why is because it's the Commander's orders…and mine," snapped Derek. "I'm not sure what's gotten into you, but, remember, you are still serving under my command. Got that?"

"Yessir, I've _got_ it," huffed Nova. She felt strangely dizzy for a moment, but then dismissed it as simple lack of rest.

"Listen, Nova, what the _hell_ is your problem?" barked Derek with his hands on his hips.

"If you give me some time in that comm booth…alone…before we call the Commander…I'll be happy to explain it…and maybe we can get it worked out."

"Wildstar, are you having a discussion?" asked Sandor.

"It's personal…has nothing to do with ship's business. Please get that link with Earth up at thirteen hundred hours."

"Of course," said Sandor, choosing to ignore the fact that he had just apparently overheard Derek and Nova having a pretty nasty spat. "Is there anything else?"

"No, Sandor…that's it."

"Very good. Nova, let's go."

"Righto," she snapped, her skirt snapping saucily as she turned on her heel and followed Derek out into the corridor.

"Aliscea, what's wrong with them?" asked Paul. "Is Ekogaru playing with their minds?"

"No. Did you see how pale Captain Wildstar looks?"

"What does that have to do with it? I mean…Nova's treating the Captain sort of like he's dog dirt on the bottom of her boot right now. If I was the Captain, I might have her up for Mast with that kind of behavior."

"He's ill. She thinks he's gotten up too soon and dragged her with him. She's acting this way, Paul, believe it or not, because she loves him. And, because…"

"Because, what?"

"Paul…I can't tell for sure. There's just something weird about this," said Aliscea.

* * *

Alone in the Communications booth, Derek asked. "Okay…Nova…what's the problem? This is going to sound awfully charged, but why have you been acting like an idiot with an attitude all morning?"

"Derek, I'll give you the answer in very simple terms," said Nova in an angry but tired voice. "Get up from that chair, and take off your jacket and your shirt."

Derek made sure the Comm booth was locked, and he obeyed Nova's requests, flinging his jacket, ascot, and Star Force uniform top over the back of the chair.

"Undershirt off, too," said Nova.

"Uh…okay…what are you doing?"

"Taking off a boot…what does it look like?" she said with a derisive giggle in her voice. After she removed her left boot and her knee sock, she put her bare foot up on the arm of Derek's chair and said. "Look at your chest. What do you see?"

"A few cuts and bruises."

"And no color. And you're pale…and clammy," she said while touching his chest. "I don't have a thermometer, but I'll bet you twenty credits that you're still running a fever. Now, look at my leg…from thigh to foot. What do you see?"

"Assorted cuts and bruises," said Derek, who suddenly felt very guilty. "And you're pale, too."

"We've got the same bug. I got up in my nightie in the middle of the night last night and took a blood sample from my finger and put it under the microscope," she said. "Luckily, it's running its course and it looks like nothing worse than an influenza virus. And, as you can see, from the events on Pellias, we're both banged up. We need rest. You need rest. I need rest."

"Then why are you up?"

"You stubborn mule…I'm up because _you're up_. If you insist on being up and about right now, I'll be up to nurse you, even if I think you're the biggest fool on this ship, like I said this morning."

"Nova, the Star Force needs me right now."

"And I need a husband who doesn't persists on sticking one foot into his own grave all the time. Do you know when you were up with that broken leg last year, if you had moved the wrong way, you could have given yourself a damned embolism? Do you want to die on your shield that badly, Captain?"

"Okay…I'll slow down. I won't be at that wedding party, if you think it's too…"

"Derek, I demand you go to that party, maybe dance with me a bit if you're up to it, and relax."

"Nova, Earth has one hundred and thirty days left. I don't know if I can relax."

"_Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself_," quoted Nova from memory. "Or, after today, we'll have a hundred and twenty-nine days left. We can afford one day off to recuperate, I think. And Aliscea _did _ask me to be her matron of honor."

"And Paul asked for Hartcliffe as his best man," said Derek as he relaxed a little. "That was weird."

"Is it? Those two have been fairly close lately," said Nova.

"All right, Nova," said Derek after an uncomfortable silence. "After the wedding, and the reception, I'll give myself shipboard leave until tomorrow morning at eleven hundred for health reasons. You're ordered to join me on that shipboard furlough."

"Thanks," said Nova with her first smile. "Now you're talking rationally, dearest. And you will rest, even, again, if I have to sit on you."

"I don't think I'd mind that…Nova…"

"Derek," she whispered lovingly with a stroke of his chest. She gave him a kiss and glanced at his chrono. "Oh! It's twelve-fifty two. We'd better get presentable before the Commander calls. If we talk to him like this, he'll think he caught us up to something funny in here."

"Hey, Nova…you can do a lot in six minutes," he said with a wink.

"Oh…_you_…" she said with a blush as she began to pull her sock back on. "You _would_ want to do it in here. You're depraved!"

"No…just deprived," he said as he got up, pulled back on his undershirt and shirt, and then opened his pants to tuck them in.

Nova had a look at him and grinned. "You poor thing, you're right. I have one prescription for that condition."

"Which is?"

"A second honeymoon tonight while Paul and Aliscea are having their first one, if you're…up…to it."

"Sounds good," he said as he closed his trousers and pulled on his jacket.

"Look at you, now _you're_ blushing! Stop it, sir…stop it," she said, giggling while zipping up her boot.

"I'm trying," Wildstar protested in a strangled sort of voice. The blush only deepened as he tucked in his ascot. "This is _nuts_, Nova. He'll be on in a minute. What's he going to find if we come on like this?"

"A young couple in love?" said Nova as she gave Derek another quick kiss that only made his blush deeper than ever. Derek looked back at his wife. "Now you're blushing," said Derek.

"Stop it…let's sit down," giggled Nova. "Well…you do it…we've only got one chair in here." Derek then sat down, with Nova holding the chair behind him. Derek tapped a sequence on the control panel of the comm set.

"This is Homer," said a voice through the speakers.

"Is he on yet?" asked Derek. _Go away…stop blushing_, he thought to himself.

"Yessir…we just brought up the link with Headquarters a moment ago."

"Tell the Commander that…uh… if he's ready, I'd like to report in now."

"I'll let him know, sir." There was a pause, and then Homer said, "He's coming in now, Captain Wildstar. As you know, he asked for you and…"

"Yes, I'm here, too, right behind the Captain." said Nova.

"Great. He'll be on in ten seconds…"

* * *

"Ten seconds to visual," said Homer's voice in Commander Singleton's inner office as "Nova" worked in her own office.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said the Commander. "Please leave this as a private conversation between Captain Wildstar and myself."

"Of course, sir," said Homer's face on the screen on Singleton's desk. A moment later, with the usual bleeping sound, it faded into an image of Captain Wildstar sitting in a chair, with Nova Wildstar behind him in her nurse's tunic. Both of them were holding salutes.

Singleton started a little. _Just as I thought_, he said to himself.

The Commander returned the salute and cleared his throat. "At ease, you two," he said. "Wildstar, it looks like you and the Lieutenant have already answered my first question. And you look a little flushed…"

"Uhh…sir, the compartment's hot, sir. Your question was…?" asked a mystified Derek.

"Is Nova still on board the ship with you?"

"Of course I am, sir!" she chuckled. "I'm right here." _Blushing my tail off…_ she added to herself.

"Good. The next question I have to ask may embarrass you, but I need an honest answer. Are you pregnant?"

"Heavens, NO!" said Nova with undisguised shock. _Well, at least not yet_, she added to herself again.

"I'm sorry," said the Commander. "How do we know that?"

"Well…I've been protected," stammered Nova, "and…and…I know my own bodily cycles. Your wife, I'm sure, can tell you what we go through each month in better detail than I can…I'm a little embarrassed about such things…at least where _I'm_ concerned, sir. Why all of the personal questions, sir? Can't you see I'm blushing, Commander?"

"Captain…Lieutenant…it's because in your old office, a woman is sitting there working who looks exactly like you, sounds like you, is dressed in one of your Administration uniforms, and is wearing your particular kind of African Violet perfume. However, she is acting like some tri-vee actresses' very bad impression of you. She said she was pregnant and that Captain Wildstar relayed her an offer to come home with Captain Josiah if she didn't care to fight Yvona and her band on the hijacked battleship _Potemkin_ for family reasons. I did make that offer, but didn't expect Nova to take us up on it."

"As you can see, sir, she didn't accept the offer."

"That's what I thought. And I haven't been able to reach Josiah to ask him. But, that'll confirm it. I'll have that impostor arrested in the next hour. Then, we'll find out who she is and why she's running around imitating you."

"Spy, maybe," volunteered Nova. "Did you cut my computer access code off?"

"Yes, with regard to classified data…I'll have it shut down altogether in a few minutes. Now, Captain… why were you out of touch? And what happened at Pellias?"

"It's a long story, sir," said Wildstar. "It was like this…"

And, on that note, Derek Wildstar finally began his report to the Commander on Aliscea and the menace of Ekogaru the Great.

* * *

In Nova's old office in Headquarters, in the meantime, "Nova" finally figured out how to open the needed program on the computer. _Now, how do I perform this damned scan?_ she said to herself. _The little whore's job is harder than I thought it was!_

"Yvona," said a deep voice in her mind.

"Lord! You've answered me."

"I know the _Argo's_ coordinates. They are PX-123 by NG-225, Galactic Standard. Enter in those figures and let the computer plot the rest of the curve," said the voice of Ekogaru in her mind. "Then, show the Commander the printout, and then stab him once with your knife in the jugular and then escape before he can call for help. Then, use the map Nova herself left you. There is a way to a shuttlecraft bay beneath the President's residence that can be reached by an underground tram from Headquarters. There you will find a ship. Leave Earth behind in it tonight and rendezvous with the R'Khell space sub that brought you to Earth."

"Yes, M'Lord," said Yvona. "Nova" began to run the printout. When she was done, she hid the small knife she had stolen from the real Nova's kitchen in her jacket and walked out into the Commander's office while Singleton continued to talk to an image on his desk.

* * *

"So, that's the situation?" asked the Commander.

"Well, the Gamilons said that they'd be leaving in the next few days for their Provisional Capital of Miralden in the Small Magellenic Cloud. They said they'd be evacuating many of the Pellians there," said Derek.

"Where's that?"

"Sir, do you remember the charts we were given based upon what we could gather of Gamilon intelligence at the beginning of our mission to Iscandar?", asked Captain Wildstar. "It appears that Miralden is the Gamilons' name for what appeared on our old charts as 'The Gamilon Outer Space Base' at the point far off at the edge of the Small Magellenic Cloud where their Third, Fourth, Fifth, and Seventh Defense Lines met."

The Commander quickly opened a computer graphic. "Yes. Now I see where you mean…right there."

"As I said, Aliscea would like us to head towards the Great Magellenic Cloud…she believes the Technomugar Fortress is going to pierce the Great Magellenic Cloud in about seventy-five days from now, right near Iscandar."

"Iscandar," said the Commander. "On the ninth, less than a week ago, I discussed the possibility of the Star Force heading there. I know that it took you two hundred and two days to accomplish the journey to Iscandar when you left in 2199, with a much less capable wave motion engine and heavy opposition from the Gamilons. You would now be proceeding to Iscandar and back without any opposition from the Gamilons, but with possible opposition from the Rikashans and R'Khell, as you described. Since you've said that, according to Vorston of Rikasha's best preliminary guess, Rikasha may be attacking us in a massive fleet action in about one hundred and thirty days from now, I have a question, Captain. Do you think it will be possible for you to head to Iscandar and back in about one hundred and twenty days and possibly find some way for Aliscea to forestall Ekogaru, possibly by consulting with Starsha?"

Derek and Nova looked at each other. "Somehow, we have faith that if anyone would know how to stop Ekogaru, this Aliscea might know how," said Nova. "If she can consult with Queen Starsha beforehand, I would like to think that, given all the mysterious things they know, they could probably find some means to stop Ekogaru. It's my feeling that if we can stop the Dark Lord, perhaps we can stop this Fortress which seems to be an extension of himself."

"Very well," said the Commander. "Captain Wildstar, prepare the _Argo _for a second voyage to the Great Magellenic Cloud, at her best speed."

Yvona seethed outside the door. _I hear them!_ _I am found out!_ she thought. _He…he's speaking with my whore niece! And they are blaspheming my Lord and plotting against Him! INFIDELS!_

For a moment, "Nova" wanted to run…until she remembered the knife in her left hand.

I must do this, she said to herself. _I must! For YOU, LORD!_

, she said to herself. 

At that moment, "Nova" came into the office, with a hand behind her back. "Sir, …here's…here's that printout."

"Ah, yes," said the Commander. "I'll take that printout…and…if you'd kindly put up both hands, _please_," he said as he slowly raised his right hand, leveling an Astro-Automatic straight at "Nova."

"Sir?" squeaked "Nova" with her eyebrows going up.

"Whoever you are, we can end this charade right now," said the Commander as he pushed a red button on his desk. "Have a look at this screen. The _real_ Lieutenant Nova Wildstar never left the _Argo_. I'm sure you heard her through the door. Now, would you kindly put up your hands and wait for the Marines? I'm sure you don't want to be shot, even if you are serving Yvona's cult. I believe you left these on my desk, under the blotter?" said Singleton as he waved some of Yvona's tracts at her, unaware, of course, that it was really Yvona he was speaking to.

"You won't shoot ME!" screamed "Nova" in a yell of rage that chilled the real Nova to the bone (and made the Lieutenant turn as white as a sheet, with the blush suddenly gone). "RRRRRRRAAAGGGHHHH!"

She jumped over the desk at the Commander with her knife flashing and a foot thrust right towards Singleton's chest.

Singleton squeezed the trigger and fired, but "Nova's" foot in his chest made the shot go wide, grazing Yvona in the shoulder rather than piercing her heart as was intended by the Commander.

Yvona fell on the Commander with a scream, thrusting her knife down towards Singleton's chest.

Luckily, despite his forty-eight years, the Commander had kept in shape. He used a martial-arts move to strike "Nova's" wrist so that the blow went wide, with the knife just piercing his right shoulder rather than his chest.

Singleton pulled his gun away and prepared to fire again, but "Nova" retrieved the bloody knife from his shoulder and slashed at his hand as, on the screen, the real Nova screamed, "Please, SIR! Get up and deal with her!" from over 17,000 lightyears away.

The slash hit the Commander's fingers, making him drop his weapon. "Nova" took it, fired wide at the Commander, and ran out of the office armed with both a knife and a pistol.

"SIR!" yelled Derek.

"I'm…I'm all right," said the Commander as he struggled up, trying to staunch the bleeding in his right hand with his white ascot. At that moment, the "intruder alert" sirens began to sound in Headquarters.

Ignoring the sirens, the Commander hit a switch on his desk with his good hand and intoned, "Security Forces, this is the Commander. You are to converge on the 47th floor, near my office. A woman resembling Nova Wildstar just attempted to assassinate me with a knife and she grabbed my weapon. She is NOT Lieutenant Wildstar but an impostor. She is to be captured, dead or alive. Also, get medics to my office…ASAP!"

"I'm all right," he gasped, looking at Derek and Nova across the lightyears. "I've survived worse than this. Once, Avatar and I got a ship home together when we were both wounded. Ask old Pat Orion about it…he was our engineer on that mission. I'll make it…and so will you. When do you expect to leave for Iscandar, Captain Wildstar?"

"Within a week," said Derek.

"Good luck on your cruise. I'll be all right. And, don't worry, Nova…we'll find that impostor and find out what she's up to."

"For Earth's sake…I hope so," said Nova.

* * *

****

THERE ARE NOW 130 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

STAR BLAZERS---THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE

Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz

* * *

ACT TWO--OF WELL-LAID PLANS...

* * *

I. LORD EKOGARU LOSES IT

Deep Space: 850,000 Lightyears Beyond

The Great Magellenic Cloud

The Technomugar Fortress

Chancellery Chamber

Friday, January 15, 2202

1310 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Lord High Protector Shardovan Gralnacz, the ex-husband of Astrena of Pellias, father of Aliscea, and current traitor of his people in the service of the Dark Lord Ekogaru tensed his cyborg body for the next lash of the whip.

The lash came a moment later, accompanied by a surge of electricity. Again, he screamed.

"You _scum_," whispered Ekogaru the Great as he threw back his arm to flay his servant's bare cyborg back again. "Do you know you scream like a _woman_, Gralnacz?"

The lash came again, along with another electric shock. Puddles of purplish artificial "blood" covered the stone floor around the Dark Lord's black metal whipping post. "Lordship, please stop it!" cried Gralnacz. "MERCY, sire! I didn't mean to lose my chance to wipe out Earth's past history!"

"You could have arrived at a more crucial cusp in their history and made certain that the original _Yamato_ was blown into un-rebuildable garbage! You could have made certain that the Cuban Missile Crisis led to World War III! You could have incited a nuclear war over Vietnam! But, what did you try to do...you tried to assassinate a Senator! A mere Senator! One man! You are a _fool! _"

"But, sire, we could have wiped out the Star Force!"

"Then, why didn't you, you _incompetent?_" retorted Ekogaru. CRACK...ZAP...and the half-naked Gralnacz now hung against his bonds like a dying man. "Hurry up and give me a better explanation...I am considering simply using my power to turn you into a _grease spot_."

"Sire, I am a mere fool...the laughingstock of the Empire. I should be executed by Your Eminence."

Ekogaru looked at the hunk of cyborg wreckage with his upper lip curled up in contempt. The light in the Dark One's eyes went venomous green, then orange, then red, and then finally blue as the despot considered a more suitable punishment.

"No. I will not execute you," mused Ekogaru. "Behold, you no longer need those."

The Dark Lord gestured, and the manacles loosened, dumping Gralnacz to the floor in a heap.

Ekogaru walked around and around the whipping post. "It is your job to crawl up, dress, and then leave again with your ship. I don't want you to engage the _Argo_ in combat yet, nor do I want you to engage _anyone_ in combat. You will serve me for now as a courier. You will find a R'Khell submarine near the edge of the Great Magellenic Cloud in twelve days from now. You will meet with that sub, and bring a single passenger back to my presence. One passenger. Then, I shall anoint her and grant her a cyborg form like ours as one of My Chosen Ones. Then, you will go back out under her command to redeem yourself and finish what you started regarding the Star Force by making them helpless and capturing Aliscea for our ends before you finish them off. I think your daughter would make a wonderful cyborg slave. With her powers under my command...I shall be unbeatable by anything that lives in this universe."

"Of course," smiled Gralnacz. "Lord, who is the passenger? Who are you granting Chosen Status to?"

"An Earth woman who worships me. Her name is Yvona Josiah. Oh, yes...she may desire that her niece be rescued from the upcoming destruction of the _Argo_. I think she may want her...as a slave...or a pet. At any rate, I know that she would love to manacle her to this whipping post, or subject her to the pleasures of the Joy Suite."

"Lordship, can I watch the torture session? It might be nice if we can torment her and my daughter at the same time."

"If you're good, you may get that favor," said Ekogaru. "Now, wipe yourself clean of your artificial blood, and leave me. I have much to consider."

Ekogaru nodded once and disappeared off into the shadows that surrounded his Throne. Even though he was in agony, Gralnacz bowed in gratitude.

After all, this time he had managed to face his Lord's wrath...and live.

* * *

II. (MORE) PROMISES TO KEEP

The Ambergis Rift

Space Battleship _Argo_

The VIP Suite

Friday, January 15, 2202

1335 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"Nova, why are you putting pink lacquer paint on my toenails?" asked a mystified Aliscea.

"It's supposed to match your lipstick," said Nova. "I'm wearing some today, too, even though it's non-regulation."

"You mean this greasy concoction you placed on my lips? Paul will _like_ that?"

"It's supposed to make you look nice," said Nova as she concentrated on Aliscea's right foot, which was up on a hassock in the _Argo's_ VIP Suite. This Suite was a two-room cabin that consisted of a sitting room and bedroom. Intended for visiting dignitaries travelling on the _Argo_, it had naturally become Aliscea's quarters upon her recent arrival on board. Now, it would also become Paul Rosstowski's cabin. Nova mused that there was plenty of room in here, unlike the Captain's Quarters she shared with Derek at the top of the space battleship's bridge tower.

Nova looked over her almost-finished handiwork as Matron of Honor with pride. The bride wore something found in her possessions: a Pellian dress uniform that just happened to be white.

"It'll be nice seeing you in white for a change, rather than that black dress you wear all the time," said Nova.

"No offense, but my black dress in my badge of office, Nova."

"I'm sorry. But, on Earth, it's usual for a bride to wear white. I did...less than a month ago when I married Derek."

"Was your dress pretty?" asked Aliscea as she straightened her uniform. It consisted of a white knee-length tunic dress with a high red collar, black belt, ceremonial sword, and many decorations on the right breast of the uniform that Nova assumed were medals. Aliscea also had a scarlet cape attached to the tunic, plenty of gold braid, and wore a red beret. Lace-up white sandals sat near the hassock; these would go on after Aliscea's nails dried.

"It was beautiful. I'll show you pictures sometime." Nova herself wore the same outfit she had worn to the banquet on the Rikashan Baron Cha'rif's ship a few days ago, along with a corsage she had whipped together in a short time. She had also found just enough time to make up a small bouquet for Aliscea.

"What's the purpose of these flowers?"

"You carry them down the aisle, and you hold them to look nice. Later on, you throw it to your bridesmaids."

"Bridesmaids? You mean I get servants?" asked Aliscea.

"Nope," said Nova, who tried to hold back a giggle. "You haven't had time to meet your bridesmaids, namely...Laurel...Tatiana...Veronica, and Holly. They'll be wearing dresses sort of like mine, and their purpose is to attend you during the ceremony. After the ceremony is over, you throw the bouquet, and whichever girl catches it is the next to get married, or so the tradition says."

"I take it you won't need to be in the running to help catch it," sighed Aliscea. "Because...you're already married."

"Right," said Nova. "Are you all right? You're looking pale again."

"I'll survive," said Aliscea. "Do you promise that in a while, Paul and I can be alone?"

"Of course," said Nova. "That's the whole _point_ of this."

Aliscea smiled. Nova thought the smile looked a little weak for a soon-to-be bride, and she wondered again if Aliscea was okay. Nova remembered that _she_ had been laughing and beaming all morning before heading to the church to marry Derek, and that her stomach had been filled with nervous butterflies.

"Here, drink this," said Nova as she poured Aliscea some sake.

"What'll this do?"

"Help calm your nerves. It might taste a little bad, but I'll drink with you," said Nova as she poured herself a glass. "Here goes!"

Both of them drank. Aliscea's face went very pale for a moment, and then she regained her color as her grimace turned into a smile.

"Not a bad drink your people have," commented Aliscea.

"Thanks. Now let's see if your nails are dry."

* * *

In the meantime, on Iscandar, Jonathan slowly awoke.

He looked around. He seemed to be in a in a bed in a house that was near the sea; the smell of salt came strongly to his nostrils.

"Where...where am I?" he said out loud.

"You've come a long way, lad," said a deep, strange voice.

Jonathan opened his eyes, and noticed that a very tall man was looking down at him. He looked Terran, and he had a red beard and long red hair that was tied in the back in a ponytail. He wore black boots, a two-toned blue uniform of some type, and a red leather flight jacket with a skull-and-crossbones pin near his right shoulder.

"Who are you, and where am I?" asked Jonathan. "Where'd you get this...sleep shirt you put on me? And who's the girl?"

"Well, you're sure not on Earth," chuckled the large man. "Matter of fact, you're as far from Earth as a kid can get. Welcome to Planet Iscandar, lad."

"_Iscandar_?" he cried. "Are you Alex Wildstar? When did you grow a beard?"

The man laughed again; his laugh was loud and deep. "Me? I'm not the Royal Consort Wildstar, even though you could say I'm one of his servants."

"But...the Star Force said that Alex Wildstar and Queen Starsha were the only two people left on Iscandar; they reported that everyone else had died due to an aging virus. I know. I learned all that stuff in school."

"I keep count: that was in 2200 in your reckoning; it's 2202 now, I believe. At least Princess Astra says so. I'm just a dumb nineteen-year old spacer vagabond...I'm not a historian like her. It'd be interesting to know how you got here...all I know is the part where Astra and I found you washed up on the beach."

"I heard about an Astra in school...she was the girl who brought the message to us...but she's dead; they buried her on Mars...at least that's what I learned in History class."

"It should have occurred to you that Alex and Starsha would have children," said a young female voice. Jonathan's eyes went wide as a young woman with very long reddish-blond hair came into the room. She wore a light purple dress, but went barefoot on the light blue carpet in the bedroom of the otherwise crystalline house, which sat on an island some distance from Mother Town. "I look a bit like my late kinswoman Astra...maybe that's why Starsha named me after her. You see, I'm her daughter."

"Her...daughter...?" said Jonathan. "Was she keeping you hidden on Iscandar or something? The Star Force never met you. You look like you're about...eighteen or nineteen..."

Astra laughed. "You can thank the aging virus for that. I'm thirteen months old, Jonathan. So is Conor, here. Yes, I know your name...Mother told me...even though I have some light talents of my own."

"But...with this virus...shouldn't you be dead or something?"

"The virus has weakened quite a bit, and some in the Royal House weren't fatally affected. The virus caused my brother Stephen and I to mature about seventeen of your years in just one year. It seems to have slowed down quite a bit since last month; Mother thinks Steve and I will age normally from this point on...well, from the age of nineteen onwards, that is."

"Steve? Who's he? I'm confused."

"My brother. We were born as twins in December of 2200. I was named by Mother after her late kinswoman, and my brother was named by Father after his friend Stephen Sandor of Earth. We sort of wish the Star Force would pay us a visit someday...but others have come to visit...like Conor here."

"Conor?" asked Jonathan.

"Iscandarian Royal Exploration Fleet crewman Conor, at your service," said the tall man. "I arrived here in Ka'leth...that'd about be your month of June. Starsha and Alex asked me to be with Astra when we both became old enough; and we had our Joining ceremony about...uh...three weeks ago. I'm afraid you've barged in on our honeymoon, so to speak."

"Where'd you come from, Conor?" asked Jonathan.

"Well, before June, the crew of my ship and I were on an overly long exploration cruise, searching the galaxies for knowledge and a cure to the aging virus that was then affecting about a quarter of our people when we left on our ship, the Royal Schooner _Tasha's Dream_. When we weren't affected when we landed, it was guessed my crew and I finally had immunity and the herbal cure we found a few months ago worked. Our fathers and mothers, and their fathers and mothers, were all affected by the virus. Those of us who survived and brought back the ship were the third generation of explorers on that ship. We had buried the last of our parents, and they had buried their parents years ago. We were in space for a total of fourteen years."

"So, Iscandar's full of people again?" asked Jonathan.

"If you call a group of four people from a twenty-person ship, one Royal Couple, and their two teenage children a "lot of people", I guess that'll suit you," said Conor. "You make the population of Iscandar ten as of now. I'm glad to be with Astra," said Conor as the two of them shyly snuggled for a moment. "Just as my sister Desha, our ship's master, is glad to be with Stephen in Mother Town."

"Desha...Who's she?"

"My sister. It is traditional for females to lead here, so she was the last master of the _Tasha's Dream_ afterour old Captain died. Our forefathers decided to arm our ship some time ago, but we got some help not long ago in getting our guns repaired. You see, we got a little engineering help from a friend I encountered in deep space," he said, touching the skull-and-crossbones pin on his jacket for a moment. "This man may be one of the greatest spacecraft designers and engineers in the Local Group. Maybe you'll have the pleasure of meeting him someday."

"Sounds like you could tell us a lot of neat stories," said Jonathan. "Can I hear some of them? Huh?"

Astra looked hard at Jonathan. Then, she said, "He and the others on his ship and their friends have fought these Rikashans, the cruel Gamilons, and other evil races out in deep space. But, Mother and I aren't interested in their stories now. We're interested in your story, and in how you got here. I know a very little of it, since I was able to probe your mind a little...but I don't know all of the details..."

"...or where that enemy fleet running around our star system is..." added Conor.

"Well, it's going to be painful...talking about everything I've been through," said Jonathan with a hitch in his voice. "It really hurts to remember it...do I have to tell you everything _now?_" he whined. "I miss my mom...I miss my dad..."

"Jonathan, Queen Starsha would like to know. I am bound to take the information to her," said Astra gently. She pushed a button on some device near Jonathan's bed; it was a type of recording device, even though Jonathan didn't know that.

"Well...here's the whole story...best as I remember it. It looks like the Rikashans whom Conor mentioned have decided to attack Earth now...here's what happened as I saw it...my parents and I were on a cruise, and..."

* * *

In the meantime, Captain Wildstar was conferring with Dr. Sane about the results of Vorston's interrogation.

"What did you discover about him?" asked Wildstar as Vorston was led back to the brig by two Space Marines.

"There's no sign whatsoever that he was lying," said Dr. Sane. "Take a look at the results of the lie detector," he said, looking at a long printout. "Everything was within normal parameters."

"So, there's nothing that we could detect..."

"When can you have Aliscea check him, Wildstar? You know...he could be psionic like the others..."

"Aliscea said she'd check him after the wedding and honeymoon; she'll be looking at him in about a day."

"And this is your last talk with me about ship's business until tomorrow, Wildstar," said Sane. "You and Nova are to rest and enjoy that wedding; got it?"

"Of course, Doc," said Wildstar, rolling up his eyes.

"You'd better make certain you listen to the Doctor's advice," said Natalie Fisher, who was standing near Dr. Sane to assist now since Nova was still occupied with Aliscea. "And that reminds me...I'd better go change into my dress. I've got only fifteen minutes until that wedding on the starboard observation deck, and so do you, Captain."

Wildstar nodded. Suddenly, Venture's voice came over the PA system. "Captain Wildstar; we're receiving a communication from the Gamilon Fleet. Please report to the bridge."

Wildstar went over to a phone, ignoring the dirty looks from Sane and Fisher. "Yes, Venture?"

"We have to hold the wedding for a few minutes, Wildstar," said Venture. "It seems we have a visitor on his way...I need to see you to set up security."

"Sure," said Derek, wondering what was going on.

* * *

"Desslok?" said Captain Wildstar on the _Argo's_ bridge a few minutes later. "Homer, did I hear you right?"

"That's right," said Homer. "The message said that Leader Desslok and Astrena were on their way to the _Argo_. Then, the Gamilons ended the message. They were asking for landing clearance and security arrangements."

"Well, what do we do?" asked Venture.

"That's right," said Orion. "It's not every day we have our former arch-enemy asking if 'e wants to board our ship for a visit. Didn't he fill the ship w' radioactive sleeping gas the last time he was aboard?"

"Maybe we should deny him permission," said Dash. "It'll be a security nightmare...and at such damn short notice, too."

"We can't do that and remain allied with the Gamilons," said Derek after a moment of thought. "Homer, he can board the ship. Call his flagship and begin making the arrangements. Dash, you talk to Hemsford. We have to get an honor guard to the lower flight bay to meet him. I'll talk to the crew and tell them the ceremony has to be delayed for a few minutes."

"Yessir," said Homer a moment later.

* * *

III. RUNNING LIKE A RAT...

Earth: The Megalopolis

The Underground City Complex

Friday, January 15, 2202

1402 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Yvona Josiah, still in her disguise as "Nova", was sitting in an underground tram car as it flew through the tramways and tubes of the huge underground city built beneath the Great Megalopolis.

She had noted the pathway that led towards the shuttlecraft bay; and had decided not to take that pathway, although she noted it for future reference.

Instead, she knew that she needed food, a brief period of rest, and another set of clothing, since she had one appointment she wished to keep before leaving Earth. So, she was on her way elsewhere, and she was hoping that this roundabout route would also throw off pursuit.

"Yes...this is it," she hissed to herself as she stopped the tram car at a given point in the near-darkness a few minutes later.

The underground cities, when not in use, were, at best, fairly lightly manned at points; and unused in other points. Now barefoot, but unmindful of the cold, "Nova" leaped out of the tram and walked along a tunnel for a few hundred meters.

She finally found the access shaft that she wanted, and she began to climb up the rungs, grinning like a madwoman_. I pray I've found the right shaft for that old ventilation tower_, she thought_. Nova's damned map isn't clear on this point; and it's most likely intentional._

Yvona continued her climb until she reached a sealed hatchway at the top of the shaft. There was a keypad with dimly glowing numerals at the side of the shaft, but no other lighting. Staring hard at the map, Yvona punched in a string of numerals in the real Nova's handwriting. There was no response for a moment, but then, the hatchway slid open.

Yvona completed her climb, emerging into a higher part of the shaft where there was a trapdoor. She flung open the door, and emerged into a combined aircar garage and hangar. Two new, shiny aircars sat in the dim light, along with an Astro Mallard jet recon boat.

"Nice that they built their house over an old ventilation tower...for the underground city. It's even nicer, for me that they opened up those last few meters to give them an emergency passage down to the underground cities and the dockyard system like at the President's Palace," said Yvona sarcastically to herself in a low voice. "I guess being the commander of the Star Force gives you some privileges. Like getting a secret hidey-hole I could use. Like nice cars...and other things..."

"Nova" smiled as she looked at the jet recon boat. _So, they have this here. Wonderful. It'll provide, perhaps, a better means of escape than the President's shuttle would; when I finish my task. How nice of you to leave this here for me, Captain Wildstar, and my dear niece Nova_. _And you have such a pretty new car, Nova. Too bad I have to borrow it for a while. I just pray the police don't get wise and get here in the next two hours. That's all the time I'll need...after all, Hiram doesn't live very far away from here. And, I am going to visit my dear, dear Hiram._

Yvona, satisfied, smiled to herself as she went over to a window in the Wildstars' garage and looked out into the January afternoon. The grounds looked quiet; there was no police presence...yet.

Yvona slipped out a side door after kicking it open, and she walked stealthily back to Derek and Nova's house. She stopped for a moment to take in a little salt air from the small bayfront beach that made up the very rear of the grounds. She then slipped back in to the house through the back door she had jimmied open earlier. It was under the balcony at the back of the living room, and it let Yvona into the house through the finished basement. She stooped in Derek and Nova's rumpus room, gleefully knocked a few bottles of liquor off the backbar behind Nova's little cocktail bar, and opened one bottle of whiskey and drank from it. Then, she went upstairs.

She stripped in the kitchen, leaving the dirty uniform on the floor. She opened a cabinet and ate a packet of dry chocolate-chip cookies, again being careful to leave the empty wrapper on the floor. After drinking some water, Yvona went back upstairs and took a nice, hot shower, hoping the warmth would reduce the pain from some of the bruises on her body. Singleton had been a better fighter than she had expected him to be.

Afterwards, being careful to again, leave the wet towel on the floor, Yvona went into Derek and Nova's bedroom. She found a pink romper of Nova's and fresh underclothes and began to get dressed again, finishing her ensemble with socks, pink boots, and a light pink coat.

Now, how do I pull this one off? thought Yvona as she played with a fresh knife. _And, Lord, please, I pray, let the disguise drop, at least at my face, when I confront him. I want Hiram to know who it is that killed him._

thought Yvona as she played with a fresh knife. 

Finally deciding what to say, "Nova" dialed Hiram Josiah's number from a videophone near Derek and Nova's bed. She waited as the videophone rang, and then smiled as it was answered and Hiram Josiah's face appeared on the screen. "Yes? NOVA? Aren't you wasting a lot of money and EDF computer time calling me from the _Argo?_ What do you want?"

Yvona smiled to herself. _Good, he hasn't heard about HQ yet. Nice._ "Uncle Hiram, I'm not on the _Argo_ now."

"Well, where the hell are you, then?" said Hiram. "Don't tell me you changed your mind about fighting Yvona or something? Sorry to sound so ticked off, but you damn women can be so fickle..."

"I came home on another cruiser, Uncle Hiram. It was the...the...the _Amazon_. It was in the area, at the edge of the solar system, and Derek called for an emergency rendezvous...once he found out, of course."

"Found out what?"

"I'm pregnant, Uncle Hiram. That's why I'm home."

"Well, congratulations," he laughed. "Guess that stuff you were saying at the wedding about waiting...went by the wayside on the honeymoon?"

"It just happened," said "Nova". "And I need help."

"Help?"

"With these new banking regulations, you see, my credit accounts are frozen until I go to the bank and identify myself...and I won't make it there by three today. Can I borrow some money from you...so I can eat?"

Hiram's face colored a bit. "The famous Nova Wildstar needs a loan...and she decides to call her uncle. Why don't you call your father? He's in town at his apartment."

"I couldn't reach him at the office, Uncle Hiram. Please?" said "Nova" as tears began to appear at the corners of her eyes.

"Oh, all right," said Hiram. "Boy, you always get your way whenever you decide to turn on the stinkin' waterworks," he said, but not without a smile. "This is only because you're my favorite niece, Nova. You'll get two hundred and fifty, and you'll return it next week after you return to duty, okay?"

"Oh, thank you," said Yvona in a suitably high-pitched voice. "You're wonderful, Uncle Hiram!"

"You ain't so bad yourself, carrot-top," he joked, calling "Nova" by a childhood nickname that had always annoyed her a little. "Congratulations on the baby...and I'll see ya soon."

"Thank you...bye..." said "Nova" with a grin as she hung up. Her laughter suddenly turned deranged. "You idiot, Hiram," she snarled. "_You bought it!_ You always were too damned soft! And it'll be great, since right before I leave Earth, I am going to kill you dead, dead, _dead!_ Are you ready to die, my dear, dear husband?"

Yvona skipped out of the room, laughing like crazy. Of course, she smashed a music box of Nova's before leaving. Just another little gift for her niece...

* * *

IV. WHILE GATHERING HIS FORCES...

Planet Gamilon

The Sanzar System

Rikashan Space Battleship _B'eoneraze_

Friday, January 15, 2202

1408 Hours, space-time.

* * *

"How wonderfully fitting, Ter'garv," said Baron Anton Cha'rif as he sat on the bridge of his flagship not far from the site of the Gamilon Empire's ruined capital city beneath Gamilon's upper crust. "Here I sit on Desslok's homeworld while I plot his utter disgrace and destruction."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I touched minds with Aliscea for a moment. Yes. He is near the edge of the Milky Way, and he and the Pellians and the Star Force are apparently plotting to come here within the next few weeks."

"Here?"

"To this system, of course. That gives me time to redeem myself in the eyes of Ekogaru, our Lord Zaden, and my father by setting up a beachhead here before we capture Aliscea. We have ten ships left, including this ship and the Gamilon carrier we captured. The rest we lost in battle, and still more were scattered by that damn warp Aliscea caused. Enough for a small stand...even though we have mostly smaller classes left."

"We have only four capital ships, Baron," said Ter'garv. "Namely, this ship, the Gamilon carrier, and two heavy cruisers."

"What about our carrier? You know...the _T'Renda_? The one with the Terran boy aboard? I want that boy back, if only as a bargaining chip."

"Baron, we found it crash-warped into the skies of the planet next to us; I believe it is called Planet Iscandar. Our last communication from the ship indicated it was drifting in the ocean there. They said they were sinking, Baron. Only a few people live there...should we look for survivors? And the planet would be easy to capture."

"Not yet."

"Why not, Baron? Must we doom our people to death there? They said they were in life rafts, in a storm, Lord Baron. Do we leave them to die?"

"Yes..." said Cha'rif. "There are secrets there that would be useful. But Ekogaru has touched minds with me."

"Baron?"

"Yes. He speaks to me now, without the priesthood. He says he has a better fate awaiting Queen Starsha than what we could give her. He wants Iscandar left alone for now, as well as the _T'Renda_. He says he shall deal with Starsha himself...when he arrives here."

"Baron...Lord Ekogaru, our god of War, is coming here...in Person?"

"Yes. He is favoring us by allowing us to behold his Dark Advent with our own eyes! And my faith in our Warbringer is restored! Oh, he is mighty, oh...he is terrible to behold," said Cha'rif with a smile as drool ran down his chin. "He is our God...our Savior and Master. Our King. And he comes in a fortress...a war machine...the size of this PLANET!"

"Yes," said Ter'garv, wondering what had happened to make the previously rational Cha'rif into a drooling worshipper of Ekogaru as bad as the R'Khell priests. "Baron...I received a message from Rikasha. We are wanted there. Lord Zaden wants a report from you, in person, Baron. He wants you to explain your defeats to him and the priesthood."

"I have erred, but I have Ekogaru's anointing and can prove it to the priesthood. Besides, we need reinforcements. Ships and more ships. The Lord Zaden will grant them, after he and Marda hear of my tale, yes. We shall need greater strength to defeat the Star Force, besides. Too bad that our carrier went down on Iscandar. Is the boy dead?"

"We never heard from our carrier again, so, yes, I assume the boy is dead."

"When am I wanted on Rikasha?"

"Soon. Even with our warp superchargers, and continuous warp mode, the journey will take about a month, round trip. It is best we leave for Rikasha now, my Baron."

"We shall do so. Leave four escorts here, on Gamilon, which I now claim as a territory of the Rikashan Star Empire. We shall leave now, and take the Gamilon ship with us, so that I can present Kelzart to Zaden as tribute, praying that we can then again reclaim him as a slave. I have plans for this traitor. Plans. And they will be great ones."

"Yes, Baron. Shall I give the order to leave?"

"Do it. Now."

Ter'garv saluted and turned away. "Communications, give the order to the Gamilon carrier, our cruisers, and the destroyer _Kahrentz_. We leave now. Our destination...Rikasha. Our task...to gather forces for the glory of Lord Ekogaru, and the doom of Desslok and the defeat of the Star Force."

"Yessir."

A short time later, Cha'rif's fleet, reduced in size as it was, lifted off from Gamilon and began to head away from the Gamilon/Iscandar area. When it was clear of the twin planets, it disappeared from normal space in a flash of green light. It thus began a journey of over three hundred thousand lightyears back to the far edge of the Milky Way, almost a hundred thousand lightyears away from Earth itself, to Planet Rikasha, Cha'rif's bleak, hot, desert homeworld.

Unknown to Cha'rif, as the fleet cleared the area, its departure was noticed by a Gamilon skulking in a cave on Gamilon's upper crust. He wore a dirty, disheveled set of brown battle armor, but he was armed with macrobinoculars.

"This is Intelligence Operative Number Five," he said into a communicator. "Operating in the Trans-Galen range on Gamilon, near the Gamilstadt Region."

"Report, will you?" said a deep voice over the Gamilon's communicator.

"Yes, Chancellor. An unknown fleet has just left Gamilon, accompanied by one of our carriers."

"What type of fleet?" said the deep voice.

"Chancellor, it is a fleet of dark blue or black ships, the likes of which I have never seen before. I suspect they have established a base here on Gamilon."

"Can't you and Jalnak subvert the base?"

"A hundred of us, scattered in holes on Gamilon, against the crews of four unknown heavy destroyers? I think not, Chancellor. And, I picked up a communication from them...they apparently think that Leader Desslok still lives, Chancellor."

"WHAT?" said the Chancellor on his far-away flagship. He gripped the microphone hard with the crude metallic cyborg right hand he now bore. It was a reminder of the devastation he still bore in his heart; the devastation that came from a wound he had incurred in his final action as a Field Marshal of the Gamilon Empire...an action in which the bulk of the Gamilon people had assumed he had died. "Desslok can't be alive. When we finally got home to Gamilon in 2200, as the cursed Terrans define it, Gamilon was a wasteland. We assumed Desslok dead, remember?"

"Yes, Chancellor."

"I took my title as a reminder of what we had lost, and then I led the survivors away from the charnel-house that was Gamilon. My title holds until we know, of course, that Desslok is dead when we discover his remains; then I declare myself Leader at last. And then, our faction takes over what remains of the Territorial Fleets, unites our five worlds, and then we begin the resumption of the War...yes, the war against Earth. But, I want you to find out who is actually staining our homeworld. Can you do that, Giren?"

"I can, Chancellor. The communication also said, sir, that the Star Force is still active."

"Good. So they didn't scrap Avatar's garbage scow of a ship after all after it returned to Earth with the Cosmo-DNA, eh," said the deep, rough, battle-hardened voice of the self-proclaimed Chancellor of Gamilon. "I shall bring the fleet there soon enough. Tell Jalnak that. I can't wait to meet those aliens again, and I hope that Avatar is involved. I can't wait to finally defeat him. The bastard. He has more lives than a Terran cat!"

"Yessir."

The communication cut off. The Chancellor stroked the metal which had partially replaced an eye socket and said, "Volgarr, did you hear that?"

"I did, sir," said General Volgarr of Gamilon, whose eyes were now blank because they had been replaced by parts from a Gamilon android.

"Desslok can't be alive. And Gamilon can't be occupied. I wonder if Avatar is behind this? He must have allied with someone else, hmm?"

"How do we know Captain Avatar still lives, General?"

"That is _Chancellor_ to you, Volgarr," said the Chancellor. "Oh, anyone who can escape a bomb that nearly killed us...that gave me gangrene, that cost me parts of my body, that wrecked my beautiful SMITE prototype ship and caused me to take back my old flagship from Planet Pogi. Yes, anyone who could dishonor me and force me to fly about space again in my obsolete Garrison Battleship, the _Domeraze III_, must still live, and soon, it will be his day of reckoning. On that day, I, Chancellor Lysis, shall finally defeat Avatar and his accursed Star Force!"

And, at that, Lysis began to laugh a long, loud and thoroughly chilling laugh.

* * *

V. A SHORT DELAY

The Ambergis Rift

The Area Around the Space Battleship _Argo_

Friday, January 15, 2202

1425 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"Leader Desslok, the Star Force says that the preparations are almost complete for our arrival. Shall we begin final approach?" asked a Gamilon officer with android eyes as he looked back into the aft compartment of the _Gamilstadt's_ shuttlecraft.

"Are you certain there's enough room on the ship for us to land?" said Desslok in a mocking tone. "You see, now that we're allied with the _Argo_, Leftenant, the last thing Astrena and I would want to do is _damage_ its landing dock."

"Sir, I recall you _wanted_ it damaged some months ago."

"That was in a different world, Leftenant," said Desslok. "It would not do to damage her now. Make certain of the dimensions, first..."

"...and then, please set up a course that'll get us there quickly," added Astrena as she sat beside Desslok in the aft compartment. "I'm sure this shuttle's fuel supply is far from infinite."

"We have enough fuel for another forty-five standard units, sir. More than enough to get us to the _Argo_ and then back to our fleet."

"Good. Make certain of those dimensions, and then leave us," said Desslok. "If they're too small, set up the docking tunnel."

"Yessir," said the Leftenant as he shut the sliding door to the aft compartment.

"Astrena," said Desslok. "I'm grateful for the privacy."

"Yes, although we can't be alone as we were last night, when we shared much."

"Yes...we shared much. And you were sweeter, by far, than my concubines ever were."

"So you're certain of our arrangement?" asked Astrena.

"Yes. I offer you sanctuary, asylum, alliance, and a fitting Throne as Empress, prefatory, of course, to my declaration of power as Emperor."

"What is the difference, Desslok, between your title as Leader, and becoming Emperor? Are not both the prerogatives of an absolute dictator?"

"I pray you don't think ill of dictators?" said Desslok.

"Pellias has had dictators in time of crisis. I would consider this such a time."

"Then, who shall rule your people as you and I set up our thrones?"

"I shall choose someone...one who shall be responsible to me, of course. Our nations shall be allied..."

"And our union symbolizes that alliance," said Desslok. "As for my title of Emperor...I pray that I shall someday find our ancient homeworld...of Galmania. Gamilon was but a colony of the Galman Empire, once, long ago...before we lost touch."

"I've heard of it. Isn't it in the Milky Way?"

"Yes. We have just discovered it is near the center of that Galaxy. We did hear that others were inhabiting Galmania. Interlopers. I once assumed Galmania was actually Earth. I thought the Terrans were infesting our ancient homeworld...the planet bombs were meant to purify it. Our charts were off, Astrena. How wrong we were," mused Desslok as he sipped at his drink. "Once, the Galman rulers called themselves Emperors. My ancestors were Leaders, the first appointed long ago by the Emperor. Now, since there is no longer a Galman Emperor, or so I have heard, I am now taking his place. I shall make the declaration soon. And you shall let us analyze your ships?"

"Yes. Our advanced technology shall rise again...I trust, in the preservation of a new peace?"

"Yes...peace through overwhelming strength over our mutual enemies," said Desslok with a slow smile.

"And...of course, our alliance with Earth is also sealed today?" asked Astrena.

Desslok nodded. "Your daughter...with the Terrans. Interesting. Are you sure you wish to permit this union?"

"Aliscea has chosen for herself already, Desslok. We need what she can do against Ekogaru. Like it or not, our hopes rest with Astrena, and the ability of the Star Force to guard her as she heads off to confront Ekogaru."

"Why is she so confident she can beat him, Astrena? She has no fleets, no weapons..."

"Desslok, _she_ is the weapon. She is more powerful, by far, than this Trelaina you told me of. And, far more experienced, thanks to the Matrix. If anyone can beat Ekogaru, she and three thousand years' worth of wisdom that rests within her can do it. That, and the power of the One, perhaps."

"The One?" said Desslok.

"The One Whom we worship," said Astrena.

"Yes, your god," said Desslok, making a slight face. He decided to humor her and said, "I pray that the One shall look upon our endeavors with favor."

"You don't believe, do you?" said Astrena.

"For now, I shall keep my own counsel in such matters," said Desslok as he slowly kissed Astrena on one cheek. "Isn't it fitting we do so, my Empress?"

"Yes...it is."

"Sir," said the Leftenant over an internal speaker. "We have just learned that we can enter the _Argo_ through her lower landing bay hatch. They have cleared us for landing. Permission to begin final approach?"

"Granted," said Desslok. Astrena smiled at him and held his gloved hand. "This should be an interesting day, Desslok."

"Yes..." said Desslok. "I'm sure of it. So continues our joint effort...against the Dark Lord."

* * *

****

THERE ARE NOW 130 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

STAR BLAZERS---THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE

Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz

* * *

ACT THREE- LOVE, LOVE ME DO (or don't)

* * *

I. A VISIT OF STATE

The Ambergis Rift

Space Battleship _Argo_

Lower Landing Bay

Friday, January 15, 2202

1435 Hours Spacetime

* * *

A squad of Space Marines with polished boots and helmets stood with their AK-01 laser rifles at port arms, putting aside their personal feelings about their visitors as a blue Gamilon shuttlecraft cruised in through the _Argo's_ lower landing bay hatch. The shuttle's belly thrusters flashed once, and the ship came to a careful landing aboard the _Argo._

Captain Derek Wildstar, and Lieutenant Commanders Mark Venture and Stephen Sandor stood waiting beside Ensign Paul Hemsford as the shuttle's belly hatch opened. Off to Wildstar's right side, beside Venture, stood Nova, Holly Parsons, and Dr. Sane. Dash, Homer, and Orion stood beside Sandor, to Wildstar's left Derek. nodded to his officers, and Hemsford saluted. He did an about-face and turned towards his squad. "Ready, guys," he snapped. "I toldcha what to do."

The Marines nodded. A moment later, four Gamilons, respectively, the shuttle's pilot, and three others, came out of the hatch and came to attention on either side of the hatch, facing towards Wildstar. Their arms snapped up in ninety-degree salutes as they heard footsteps inside the shuttlecraft.

Wildstar nodded to Venture, Sandor and the others. All of the men and women snapped to attention, and waited as Desslok and Astrena slowly strode down the shuttle's ramp. The Gamilon Leader was regal in his usual grey uniform and red and black cape, while Astrena was beautiful in a long dark purple dress and green necklace. She wore a slender silver circlet over her brow, topped with a gleaming white jewel that glittered in the bright landing bay lights. When they stood on the _Argo_'s deck, the Star Force officers all saluted. Behind them, Hemsford barked, "Present ARMS!" The Marines presented their rifles and then brought them up to their shoulders, bringing their right fists up in salute as one party.

Desslok nodded, while Astrena returned the Star Force's salute with a salute of her own to her brow.

Derek said, "Leader Desslok, Lady Astrena, welcome to the _Argo_."

Desslok said, "Thank you, Captain Wildstar. Even though this is a promising day, I wish we were meeting again under less trying circumstances. As you know, we are all fighting for our lives right now. I wish it were otherwise."

"Where is Aliscea's ceremony of joining being held?" asked Astrena.

"In one of our observation decks," said Captain Derek Wildstar. "Our Marines will escort you."

"Thank you," said Desslok. "I never thought I would board the space battleship _Argo_ again. When last I visited...it was not under particularly pleasant circumstances. May we visit your bridge for a moment?"

"Of course," said Captain Wildstar. "Nova, please let our guests know we'll be ready in a few minutes, and then please join us on the bridge."

"Yessir," replied Nova. She saluted and walked off towards a phone, her high heels clicking on the deck as she walked off with a casual flip of her skirt.

"Classy broad," muttered one of the Marines as he turned his head towards his mate.

"I like Her Highness better," muttered his buddy

"Stow it, guys, they might hear you," said Hemsford.

The Marines went quiet. They made sure they were silent, as, a moment later, Hemsford, Captain Wildstar, Desslok and Astrena all walked past. Then, they fell into step behind their visitors, and followed Wildstar on his journey to the _Argo's_ first bridge.

* * *

On the _Argo's_ bridge, Captain Wildstar stood in silence with Venture, Sandor, and Nova as Desslok and Astrena slowly walked around the Command station.

"Where were my messages heard?" asked Astrena.

"Over here, at Communications," said Wildstar. "Both of you are facing my Command station."

Odd...I thought the bridge of the Argo would be larger, thought Desslok. _It always looked bigger on my screen, somehow, when I met the Star Force in battle. So many destinies...of so many...were decided here. Interesting...being here where so many battles were fought. Now I know how Wildstar must have felt aboard my flagship._

thought Desslok. 

Desslok stopped when he noticed the plaque hanging above Wildstar's command chair. "Captain Avatar, I believe?"

"Yes...that's him," said Captain Wildstar. "As I told you once before, Desslok, he is still an inspiration to the Star Force..."

"And a man worthy of our honor," said Desslok as he silently went down on one knee before the plaque, with Astrena doing likewise. To the surprise of the assembled officers, they knelt there for a moment in solemn silence before getting up. "Without his gallantry," said Desslok, "I would be a different man today...a man living a lie on the remains of a worthy people."

Wildstar wondered what Desslok meant by this remark, but he thought better than to ask the strange, foreboding Leader of Gamilon to elaborate upon his opaque statement. "I believe we have a Joining Ceremony to attend?" asked Astrena as she patted Desslok's arm.

"Of course," said Desslok as he slowly walked around the _Argo's_ bridge one more time, surprising the few duty officers and men who were keeping watch aboard what was still a space battleship underway, even though it was keeping station with the Gamilon Fleet. "You have an duty alert crew, Captain. It's too bad they can't attend."

"They'll be given time to attend later on, Leader Desslok," said Yamazaki from the Engineering station where he sat watch as Officer of the Deck on this watch. "We have a change of the watch in a few hours."

"Thank you for the information, Officer," said Desslok. "Now, if you'll tend to your post..."

"Of course, sir" said Yamazaki. Desslok nodded at him, and looked quizzically at Captain Wildstar.

"He's Lieutenant Yamazaki," said Wildstar. "Our Officer of the Deck, and Second in Command of Engineering."

"Interesting," said Desslok. "It'll be fascinating...meeting others of your race today...sampling your foods...glancing at your equipment," he said as he ran a hand over Rosstowski's Artillery console, now being manned by another officer. "What a wonderful degree of miniaturization, Astrena. Not unlike ours. I never thought anyone else could build technology quite like this," said Desslok as he looked admiringly at the Matsumoto Dial displays which were arrayed across the console.

"Shall we go, soon?" asked Astrena, as she looked at Nova for a moment. She rolled up her eyes a little, sending a message to Nova across races and cultures. It was the universal woman-to woman message of, _men...and their toys._

"Derek?" asked Nova. "Should I let our people below know we'll be down there soon?"

"Yes, please do. If you'd go ahead of us..."

Nova nodded once and saluted. Derek returned the salute before she left the bridge at the starboard hatch.

Desslok nodded to Wildstar. "Now, if you'd have your Marines show us the way..."

"Of course," said Derek as they left the bridge at the port side hatch.

When all of the visitors had left, a crewman looked aft from the Navigator-Pilot's station towards Yamazaki. "Felt weird with him walkin' around here, Chief. Never knew the blue sumbitch was that _big_ before."

"I knew he was that big," said another crewman, a man who was manning the Cosmo-Radar in Nova's absence. "I still remember when he boarded the ship that time when we were almost home...he damn near kicked me aside in that sleeping gas as I was getting my helmet on. Would've been _nice_ to take a poke at him again. And now...he's being treated like an honored guest."

"He is a guest, Mister Castilla," said Yamazaki. "Times change."

"Our problem Chief, is that maybe times are changing too fast," said Castilla. "What do you think?"

"I'd prefer not to comment, right now," said Yamazaki. "I've got my own issues...but he _is_ our ally."

Castilla didn't notice Yamazaki's fist clenching as he spoke.

Yamazaki sat in silence as his mind ran back in time to the early autumn of 2200...

There was chaos in the _Argo's_ Engine Room that watch...

A huge black shell, or something that looked just like it, had just rammed through the ship's hull with incredible force.

The concussive shock, and all of the flying metal splinters from the shattered hull of the space battleship had knocked the Engineering crew to the deck. Yamazaki had fallen on his stomach a few meters away from Orion.

It opened like an evil clamshell. "What is _that_?" yelled Orion. "Is everybody all right?"

Yamazaki remembered looking up. "What is it?" he had yelled.

"That's GAS!" someone else yelled as evil reddish fumes flowed out of the capsule.

Yamazaki didn't need to be told twice that he was about to be poisoned. _It's some kind of Gamilon weapon_, he thought to himself as he ran for his helmet. _Has to be. Who else would be attacking us?_

Yamazaki's hearing was muffled as he got his helmet on. Through the radio headset, he heard others coughing and gagging as Orion yelled, "Everyone...put yer masks on at ONCE!"

In the dim light, and all of the confusion and chaos, Yamazaki noticed a tall figure with a high-crested helmet striding out of the gas at the capsule's mouth. _He must be their commander..._he thought as he reached for his gun. _Arrogant rat...who else would wear a cape to the slaughter of innocent men at their posts?_

Yamazaki's bead on the enemy commander was broken as, a moment later, Gamilon shock troops poured out of the gas around their commander, like evil army ants. They began shooting at Yamazaki's crewmates. Yamazaki quickly took cover behind one hunk of metal with two enlisted men. He noticed that Orion and his men from Energy Control were shooting at the boarders, but not being very successful at repelling them. As laser bolts flew all over the place, even through his helmet, Yamazaki heard the sounds of battle...ricochets, blasts, and the screams of dying men.

Through the haze, Yamazaki noticed Orion, now helmeted, at an intercom speaker. "Wildstar, we're under attack!" said the Chief. "Gamilon soldiers have come aboard!"

Some answer crackled over the speaker from the first bridge. Yamazaki remembered it was Wildstar's voice, but he couldn't remember what was being said.

Then, Orion barked, "Yamazaki, you back us up! We're heading around to try to repel these boarders! Wildstar'll have reinforcements on the way at the emergency drop tube near Frame Number 600! We'll make our stand there and get these guys!"

"Got it," said Yamazaki.

Yamazaki then remembered the chaos of battle. How many guys had the Gamilons killed that day? _Half my section_, he thought. He remembered that Tech Sergeant Garand had died that day, along with Nogura, Counts, Capehart...all good guys...all dead...all of them on Heroes' Hill now. They had been so shorthanded on the way back, what with Sparks and his crew deserting and then getting themselves killed on Iscandar like a bunch of idiots.

Yamazaki, after more fighting, found himself a few meters away from the drop tube...coming along with Orion, who was helping a staggering crewmate down the passage.

Through the gas, he saw Wildstar flying out of the tube in the clear light, landing right in front of his girlfriend.

"DEREK!" Nova had cried. He remembered how beautiful and desperate she had looked that day, standing right in the battle in her Medical dress and boots. Little did he know that, in a few minutes, she would be saving the whole mission.

"Nova, get out of here!" yelled Wildstar as Dash and Orion ran past him, taking up defensive positions at a blast hatch near the approaching gas front that was at Yamazaki's back, along with the Gamilon soldiers.

Yamazaki remembered Wildstar running up, sans helmet. "Are you all right, Orion?" he had asked.

"It's gas...poisonous gas...get yer masks on!" Orion had said.

"It's useless to fight back, Earthlings," said a sonorous voice back in the gas. "Surrender _now_," said the voice coldly. "Where's your Captain?"

Yamazaki looked back, noticing the enemy commander at his back. He swiveled his gun towards the tall alien, but he then had six pitiless Gamilon shock troops pointing guns at him. Still, he held his ground, even though he didn't fire, not wanting the Chief or Wildstar killed.

"Captain Avatar is ill," Wildstar had snapped. "I'm Deputy Captain Wildstar. _Who are you?_"

"Ha, ha, _ha_...so the Star Force is being led by a mere _boy_," said the enemy commander as he took off his mask and raised his visor. Yamazaki looked back again and gritted his teeth at the evil Gamilon's arrogant, laughing Goddamn royal face. "I am Desslok, Leader of the Gamilons."

"_Desslok!_" yelled Wildstar in disbelief.

What a young rat, thought Yamazaki as he fell back to help Orion and Mabuchi, the limp, mustachioed engineer whom Orion was holding up_. He looks like he's about Alex Wildstar's age. So, all the time, Earth was being destroyed by some damn Boy King many years younger than I am. Wonderful..._

, thought Yamazaki as he fell back to help Orion and Mabuchi, the limp, mustachioed engineer whom Orion was holding up 

"You thought I was dead, didn't you?" Yamazaki remembered Desslok saying. "That was your first mistake. Gamilon has withstood many disasters. As long as I live, Gamilon lives. You've done well for one so young, but I strike the last blow!"

Arrogant, and he makes pretty long-winded speeches, too, thought Yamazaki. _Why doesn't he start shooting so we can get a clear shot and finish him off?_

, thought Yamazaki. 

But, then, the gas crept up towards the unhelmeted men. _Just like he planned it like that..._ thought Yamazaki. _He's a showman, as well as an SOB...and I can't even see him, now._ _Can't even aim at the guy!_

"WHAT?" yelled Wildstar as the first tendrils of gas crept up.

"This is a radioactive sleeping gas," said Desslok with an amused grin on his face. "When you and your crew become unconscious...we will take over your ship and fly it right into your Earth Defense Headquarters...after, of course, _destroying_ the Cosmo-DNA! Ha ha ha ha!"

"Not without a fight!" yelled Wildstar as he began leading a retreat with his hand over his mouth. Wildstar fired a shot and then took off down the passage with the rest of them.

"You see, the gas doesn't bother us," said Desslok as he and his men strode forward.

Then, the firefight began again. In the gas, the chaos, Yamazaki remembered that another crewman named Turrell had bought it...shot down like a dog by the Gamilon shock troopers. Yamazaki then remembered then he himself had taken a wound to the arm, which had opened his uniform/spacesuit up to the gas. He remembered coughing a lot, and coming to later on in Sickbay, where, in his semi-conscious state, he remembered Wildstar crying his eyes out as he saw Nova lying in a bed ...while Dr. Sane disconnected several machines from her. "I can't do anything more for her, Wildstar," he remembered Sane saying. "She was on the Cosmo-DNA, and she inhaled lungfuls of that stuff before it went on."

"What'll be the effect?" cried Wildstar.

"Fatal, most likely, because she breathed in so much of that stuff," said Dr. Carolyn Bradford, an assistant of Dr. Sane's with very short brown hair. "When one breathes enough of a radioactive substance, it can be a quick killer, or an insidious, silent killer, depending upon the person's resistance. We just lost Sergeant Major Mabuchi to that stuff after he lay in a coma with no brain activity and his body just gave up the fight. Barring a miracle, Derek...it'll probably do the same thing to her. Hate to be tactless, Wildstar, but I need this equipment for someone who'll probably live..."

"Don't give up all hope!" protested Sane. "Nova could pull out of this!"

"With barely any measurable brain activity?" said Dr. Bradford. She carefully took the last IV out of Nova's wrist and looked down at her pale, silent nightdress-clad form. Bradford shook her head sadly and said, "Sir, she's got one foot in the grave, and you know it. Derek," she added to Wildstar. "I am truly sorry. Nova was a very, very brave woman whom I loved to work with. You should look upon her as someone who gave her life, so we could all live."

Yamazaki saw the stricken look on Wildstar's face. It spoke volumes. _Poor kid,_ Yamazaki had thought before he passed out again . _They were getting to be quite an item. And Orion liked her so much...she was a cute kid..._

Then, Yamazaki had passed out once again, and not awakened again until the _Argo_ was already in her dock on Earth, in the underground base near Okinawa, not far from where her journey had begun. He remembered that he thought he was dead when he awoke, because the first thing he had seen was Nova standing over him in her gown, grinning shyly at him...

Yamazaki sat in silence again as his reverie ended. _It's not even two years..._he thought _Mabuchi's barely cold in the ground, and we're welcoming **him **aboard like some guest now_. _Yes...times change. But, that doesn't have to mean I necessarily like it. Okay, Wildstar forgave him. Nova apparently has also forgiven the same guy who nearly made her either a vegetable or a corpse not more than two years ago. Doesn't mean I have to do it, though. Oh, later on, when I get relieved, if he's still at our party, guess I'll shake his hand, ask him about Gamilon technology...small talk like that. But, by Buddha, I'm going to wash _**my**_ hand after I shake his..._

* * *

II. THE CELEBRATION OF A UNION BETWEEN RACES

The Ambergis Rift

Space Battleship _Argo_

Port Side Observation Deck

Friday, January 15, 2202

1502 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Paul Rosstowski couldn't believe his incredible good fortune as he and Aliscea stood before the whole crew as they spoke their vows before Rabbi Greenberg, sealing, for the sake of EDF regulations, the wedding that had already taken place on Pellias right before its demise. Both Paul and Aliscea were in dress uniform. Paul thought she looked utterly gorgeous. Even the surprise wedding guest, Leader Desslok himself, thought she had looked quite beautiful as he and her mother had both embraced her before she had gone up the aisle on the ship's huge observation deck. When the vows began, Paul fixed his gaze upon his young bride, barely his best man, a sullen Bryan Hartcliffe (looking very uncomfortable in his blue peacoat) off to his left. Off to his far right, beyond Aliscea's shoulder, stood Nova, the matron of honor. She looked pretty in her pink dress, and had a soft, enigmatic smile on her face. Hardy, Dash, and to the surprise of many, Royster, the other groomsmen, stood in a line going down the aisle to the left, by Paul, while Holly Parsons, Tatiana Lubyanska, and Laurel Hartmann stood behind Holly and Nova.

Nova, with a small sense of irony, noticed that Laurel was wearing the same floor-length gown that she had worn to _her_ wedding to Derek not long ago. Finally, the Captain stood silently beside the Chaplain. He said a few words to begin the ceremony, but, otherwise, he was just quietly watching Paul and Aliscea in their happiness, and also stealing a few glances at his own bride in the bargain.

The sea of stars framed the _Argo's_ chaplain as he stood there in his yarmulke leading them through their vows. The middle-aged Rabbi almost looked a little like an ancient Biblical figure with his slightly long hair and short, bushy black beard. "Do you, Aliscea d' Shal of Pellias, swear to love, honor, and cherish this man with whom you have decided to share your life?"

Aliscea looked at Paul and quietly said, "I do."

Since Paul had just sworn to the same a moment beforehand, the rabbi only had to conclude the ceremony. "Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife. May the Lord keep and bless both of you. _Mazel Tov_," he said with a smile.

Then, before they kissed, they both did an about-face and walked over to a small bundle set on the floor by Nova. At a signal from the rabbi, both Paul and Aliscea stepped on the wrapped wineglass, shattering it with a loud snap. Then, they embraced and kissed as the crew cheered.

They went down the aisle together to the strains of a recording of the Beatles' _Because_. Somehow, the pretty but melancholy song seemed to suit the beautiful young couple as they came down the aisle and then stopped to share their first dance as the song played on.

"They look happy," said Nova as she came up beside Derek to watch.

"They _are_ happy," replied Wildstar. "Look at that smile on Rosstowski's face. After all the sadness he's been through in the past two years, he deserves some happiness."

"Yes, he does..." said Nova, who then stopped open-mouthed as she gently tapped Derek on the arm. "Derek...look," she whispered.

"Where?"

"There...don't be too obvious..." said Nova as she turned Derek gently off towards the right. Then, she stopped. "Over there, Derek," she whispered.

Wildstar looked, and then stood speechless as he observed Mark Venture and Holly Parsons quietly sneaking a kiss. "I don't believe it," murmured Derek in Nova's ear.

"He's learning to live again," said Nova in return in a very soft voice. "Remember how Mark was mourning for...?"

"Yes. It looks like Holly's coaxing him back into the human race again."

"I hope so," said Nova. "For the sake of them both."

The dancing and celebration continued for about an hour or so on the observation deck, with an atmosphere much like that of the farewell party the Star Force had thrown as they had left the solar system in 2199.

Desslok and Astrena sampled some Terran foods and drinks from the buffet table while Captain Wildstar shared a dance with the new bride, followed by the groomsmen. After dancing with Nova for a bit, Captain Wildstar shared a dance with Astrena as Desslok looked on.

"He doesn't seem to mind," said Derek as he looked back with Desslok. The Gamilon was talking with some of his officers, as well with Orion, Yamazaki, Holly and Dash. It looked like Holly was trying to get Desslok to eat something that looked like bratwurst on a roll. The tall Gamilon accepted the gift, but only after one of his aides tasted it first.

"No; he wouldn't. Aliscea and I share a psionic link, and through that bond, I have learned about some of your customs, thanks to the deeper link that my daughter shares with your officer, Paul. Through that bond, I understand that it is your custom to share dancing with others like this for a brief time...as we are doing."

"I guess your learned our dancing through this link with your daughter, too," laughed Derek. "You're not half bad."

"I thank now. Now, as for Paul and Aliscea; I have something to tell you. Heed my advice, for this is _important_, Captain. As a guest on your ship, Aliscea must be properly looked after. Because of her link with him, she is aware of some of your customs. Of course, the link needs time to form."

"How much time?" asked Derek.

"About one of your days, give or take a few hours," said Astrena. "In a Pellian Joining where such a link is created, the couple usually begins to bond as part of the ceremony, which the couple assents to themselves. In effect, they have married themselves already on Pellias."

"I see," said Derek.

"Usually, they are left in seclusion immediately afterwards to both enjoy their wedding night and form their link as part of that intimacy. For the psychic and physical health of the involved couple, it is dangerous to break this link or this seclusion, as you have no doubt learned."

"We have, Astrena," said Wildstar with a deep sense of shame. "We're sorry..."

"It couldn't be otherwise," said Astrena. "They couldn't have had a full wedding night on a dying planet. You did what had to be done. Just be sure that they are together... and left alone...as soon as possible after the ceremony. Otherwise, Aliscea might go mad...or possibly even sicken and die...as might Paul."

"We'll see to it, Astrena."

"Thank you, Captain Wildstar. I know that there is a question in your mind; "what do I see in Desslok?""

"I..." Wildstar was thinking that, but he hadn't meant to voice his opinion out loud. He looked over at Desslok and his shipmates again...it looked as if the Gamilon was shaking Yamazaki's hand.

"It's odd...it's like I've known him for years. We have no psionic bond, but we have many common experiences. We have both lost our homeworlds...and we have been through many long defeats and battles. We have both done things we wish we could have done differently, and we are both tired of war. Both of us wish to live with our peoples in peace and safety. For those reasons, and also because are personalities are alike in many aspects, we decided to come together as we spoke to one another. Does that answer your query?"

"It does. Thank you, Astrena," said Derek. The Captain looked over again, and noticed that Holly was trying to get Desslok to stand up. He stood, but he politely bowed. His voice came through the hubbub as he said, "Thank you, but I don't care to dance now. I shared a dance with a member of your crew earlier, Miss Parsons."

"Aliscea has suffered through so much lately," said Astrena. "She has much to do when she confronts our Enemy. For that, she will need all of the happiness she can get. Please see that Paul provides that to her?"

"I'll do my best."

Astrena and Wildstar stopped dancing at last. Nova came up, finishing a dance she had been sharing with the Gamilon liaison officer, and all three of them smiled as they watched Paul and Aliscea embracing and snuggling in each other's arms. They certainly looked happy.

Later, after more dancing and celebration, Derek and Nova walked straight off towards a table. To their surprise, Desslok and Astrena sat down with them.

"I'm afraid I've received a communication from my fleet, Wildstar," said Desslok. "One of my aides just relayed some disturbing news through the liaison officer I left here earlier."

"Which is?"

"Captain Wildstar, my adjutant Talan has just picked up an odd subspace communications burst that he thinks bears some investigation. Some destroyers and cruisers are being sent to investigate. I will be leaving soon to await their report. Could you please have the groom's attendant stand to give his toast, followed by ours?"

"Is there any danger?" asked Wildstar in a low voice.

"No. Not as far as we know...but I'd like to make certain that there isn't a danger to us, or to the Pellians. Their battleships _are_ carrying a great deal of refugees."

"Of course," said Wildstar.

"I'm afraid that we must be going right after the toast," said Desslok. "And, unfortunately, I must take my liaison officer with me. Thank you, Nova, for teaching him how to dance properly, by the way."

"Oh, you're welcome," said Nova with a slight smile.

"My pleasure. Shall we depart?" asked Desslok

* * *

"Hartcliffe," said Conroy, shaking the long-haired pilot. "Hey, Hartcliffe...here comes Wildstar. You're needed."

"Don' wanna bloody shelabrate now," he said in a very drunken voice. "The enemy scuzzbags raped m' Angie..."

"It looks like you've already been celebrating," snapped Conroy. "How many damn drinks have you had?"

"Just four, sir. Tryin' t'kill the pain."

"You went against the Captain's orders. Off-duty Tigers were only supposed to have two drinks like the rest of the crew and then ten hours' sleep. What if you have to fly tomorrow, buddy?"

"I can always throw up," slurred Hartcliffe.

"If there weren't women and guests present, I'd belt you for that," snapped Conroy. "Now get your lousy butt off that chair for Rosstowski. He is still your friend, isn't he?"

"Okay, I'll do it for 'im, but no' fer you," said Hartcliffe. "Hey, Paul, how's yer lady love?"

"She's fine," said Rosstowski as he shook his head in disgust. "Look at this. I'm here with the love of my life and you hadda fall off the wagon."

"I'm not drunk," said Hartcliffe.

"You are, too. I can smell the alcohol, Hartcliffe," said Aliscea in positively icy tones as her sandaled foot tapped the deck in anger.

"Hey, yer cute," said Hartcliffe.

"Hartcliffe, one more crack out of you, and, _so help me_," growled Paul as he began to make a fist.

"Paul, I'm not feeling well!" cried Aliscea. _Dearest, I need you...we have to finish what we started on Pellias, _she added in his mind through their link.

I'm sorry...he thought back.

"Paul, please get someone to get our best man to bed. I'll get Nova to take over. She's only had one glass of wine."

"I can do it," said Hartcliffe. "Here's to the bride an..."

"C'mon, you," said Conroy, followed by Sakamoto as they and two Marines took Hartcliffe by the arms. "You're going to your quarters until you go see the Captain tomorrow morning to stand Mast for dereliction of duty. If you said something to Desslok or Astrena now, it might cause an interstellar incident we don't need!"

Hartcliffe fought a little with the typical bravery of a drunk, but the Marines overpowered him and frog-marched him out of the room. The last thing he saw was Nova nodding to Aliscea as she assumed the duties of the best man at this wedding. In her mind, Nova was trying to think of suitable words to say on the spur of the moment for the toast while Desslok stood nearby with an unreadable look on his face.

Aliscea began to grow shaky again as the wedding reception continued.

* * *

III. BITTER HOMECOMING

Earth: The Megalopolis

The Josiah Family Residence

Friday, January 15, 2202

1638 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"Nova, you're late," said Hiram Josiah as he opened the door, as it appeared, to his niece. Her pink coat was open, and Hiram looked at her outfit. "It's freezing out today. What's a woman in your condition doing running around in shorts?"

"I've always liked this outfit," replied "Nova". In her purse, Yvona was gently fingering her knife. "Do you have a place for me to hang my coat?"

"You've been here before...it's in the hall closet," said Josiah as he lit up a cigar. "I've got your money right here in my pocket. Want some tea, Nova?"

"No, I've suddenly grown out of liking it," replied Yvona in Nova's voice. She hung up her coat and flounced back in.

"Are you sure you're all right, Nova?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're walking funny...like you were skipping around on a jaunt with Derek or something."

"I miss him...but he'll be back. I'm just remembering the honeymoon, that's all," said "Nova" dreamily.

"Yeah, that sounds like you," said Josiah. "Okay, here's your money..."

"Thanks" replied "Nova" as she put the money in her purse. "Oh, I'm so happy about the baby!" cried "Nova" as she threw her arms around Josiah and made him fall to the floor with her on top of him.

"Well...that's sudden," said Hiram in shock as "Nova" abruptly took his face in her hands and began to kiss him on the mouth. _Now, Lord,_ prayed Yvona. _Change my face...now...make me look like I did when I was young...for a brief, brief time. Leave the body like it is._

"Nova...what's gotten into you?" gasped Hiram. "What'll Derek think? I hate to say this, but this is no damn way for a newly married woman to act...especially towards her _uncle!_"

"Look again," said "Nova" as her voice subtly began to change. It went a bit lower and became a bit rougher. "Take a good look at my face, Hiram..."

"Why? What's happened to your voice...your face?"

"Hiram, darling, like what the Lord can do for me?"

"_Yvona_! This is _crazy_! You look like you're twenty-two! Like you did a year after we met!" cried Josiah as he looked at his wife's face. It was no longer Nova's face, but it wasn't the ravaged, fat face of his elderly wife, either. The face looked young, pretty, and heart-shaped, with dark eyes with thick lashes somewhat like those of her famous niece. The set of the nose was slightly different, and Yvona's hair had been dark brown as a young woman. The effect of a young Yvona kneeling on her husband in Nova's clothes was both bizarre and enchanting for Hiram. "Tell me, Yvona...are you sane again?"

"It depends upon what you mean by 'sane'," smiled Yvona. "If you mean _"do I plan to give up the cult?"_ the answer is no. And, no, dearest, you need not divorce me...not now."

"Why not?" gasped a stunned Hiram. Something inside him told her to fight his wife...fight her like an enemy...kill as he had been trained to do...but, something kept him pinned to the floor as Yvona slowly opened Nova's purse.

"Well...it's because I'm going to be a widow in about three minutes, my love," said Yvona as she stroked Hiram's face with one hand, and produced her knife with the other. "Goodbye, Hiram. You always were a sucker," said Yvona.

At that, the knife flew up and then flew down in a shining arc, planting itself right in Hiram Josiah's chest. Hiram could do nothing more than gasp.

Yvona threw back her head and laughed. She laughed again and again, sounding almost more like a demon than a living woman. Yvona pulled the knife from his chest and slowly licked it clean. Then, she rolled over his inert body and pulled off his blood-soaked Captain's peacoat as a gruesome trophy of her successful kill. At least she felt it was successful. Hiram was surely dying now. She threw off Nova's pink coat, dressed the body in it as best as she could since it was far too small for Hiram, and left him there wearing his niece's coat. She had pleasant thoughts of mutilating him, but she guessed there wasn't enough time.

Yvona put on Hiram's coat. As an afterthought, she opened Nova's purse. Yvona took out Nova's car keys, and then dumped the rest of the purse's contents, including the borrowed money, right on top of her husband's face.

"Here's your money back, _dear_," hissed Yvona. She closed up the bloody peacoat, smiled, and spat on his hand.

"Hiram, I love you," said Yvona with a wide smile. She took his astro-automatic off the mantel and ran to the door of what had been their home. She opened it, and stepped out. Before getting into Nova's car, she said, "Goodbye, Earth. Soon, soon, I will be gone. I will not return until you hail me as your Overlord."

She started Nova's car and drove off, smiling at the open door she had left.

But, in the Josiah house, a flimsy note that had been one of Nova's forgotten grocery lists from before the Cometine invasion rose and fell slightly as it lay on Hiram Josiah's unconscious mouth. Hiram Josiah still lived, but he wasn't long for this world, not without help.

* * *

"Now, I need a place to take off," said Yvona as she sat in the jet recon boat back at the Wildstars' garage a few minutes later. She was perusing the flight manual for the boat. She was also pointedly ignoring the police sirens that were finally coming down Derek and Nova's home street towards her. "Hmm...I think the front lawn will do it if I give this thing enough thrust," she said as she flicked a number of switches on the ship's instrument panel. "Flip on the radar...I think...keep the radio off...shut the canopy."

Yvona flicked more switches as the police aircruisers pulled in, their lights flashing red and blue in the dusk.

"Whoever you are, come out with your hands UP!" boomed a voice over a bullhorn. "You are under arrest! _Surrender now_!"

Yvona yelled a very obscene phrase and punched the jet recon boat's throttle.

The ship flew out of the garage, its wing sideswiping Nova's abandoned aircar as it came out. The police fired their astro-automatics at the approaching plane, but only one shot hit the plane, bouncing harmlessly off the canopy.

The police scattered as it looked as if the maniac was going to ram them all and go down in a blaze of glory. Instead, the speeding ship roared up like a drunken bottle rocket, with one of its all-terrain wheels knocking the light and siren bar off the roof of one of the Federal Police cruisers as it gathered speed and roared up and off towards Heroes' Hill.

The police fired at the boat, but it was far past their hand weapons in a moment. One officer picked up his hand mike and said, "This is Unit Number Four-Thirty-Five, Hewlett. The perp has escaped and is heading towards College Point in an Astro Mallard boat stolen off the Wildstar property. We'll need aerial support, over."

"This is dispatch, Hewlett. Our police 'copters can't catch that; that's a military aircraft. I'm calling Operations, Idlewild NAS. We'll need Earth Defense to bring this terrorist suspect down. I'll see if I can get the Silver Dragons scrambled."

"Channel Five here...this is the unit at the Josiah house; over."

"What did you find?"

"Captain Josiah, of course. They're trying to put blood into him. He has massive internal injuries of some type, and one knife wound. We need paramedics _now_, damnit!"

"You've got them" said the dispatcher. "Hewlett, stand down the APB."  
"Over. What should we do?"

"Secure the Wildstar residence. I'm having Military Intelligence send some forensics guys over to see what we can come up with about this perp. I suspect she may have visited the residence before; one of Josiah's neighbors said she was running around in what looked like Nova Wildstar's clothes. She knows they're hers because she's seen Mrs. Wildstar in them at that house before. But, this makes no sense. Isn't Lieutenant Wildstar in space on the _Argo_?"

"She's supposed to be," said Hewlett, scratching his crew-cut topped head for a moment. "This is crazy. We'll secure the premises and make sure no one interferes with the chain of evidence...over."

* * *

IV. A MAD FLIGHT

Earth's Atmosphere

Friday, January 15, 2202

1718 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"Okay: I'm supposed to fly this thing...to...RPX 28, one megameter or one thousand kilometers away from the surface of Earth, according to what my Lord told me in my mind as I took off," said Yvona Josiah out loud to herself. "That's about five hundred old-miles altitude in mid-orbit. Okay...this radar thing is on, the radio is on, and the compass is on...trying to read it," muttered Yvona as she craned her head to look at the unfamiliar instrument panel of the Jet Recon Boat. "Got my heading...follow the red arrow to the blue dot...and I'm there."

Yvona began to sing "Amazing Grace" with a warped smile on her face as she wore her husband's and niece's bloodstained clothes. "My vengeance is partially complete," she sang to the tune of the hymn, committing sacrilege as she turned something holy into something warped. "It saved a wretch like me..." She licked her lips and smiled as she flew on. "I once was lost, before I met the Dark Lord...the new avatar of God. When I'm on the Fortress ten thousand years, in my new grand cyborg form..."

The radar began to bleep. "Great, can't sing about the new Lord's gifts for me now...looks like I've got company. Who's that knocking at my door, pray tell? Do you have a Boilermaker for your dear Auntie Yvona?"

Yvona began to bring up the boat's speed. "I'm a party girl...I can outrun you six planes anytime...wooo...I'm a party girl again," she sang to the tune of a popular song of the time. "I'm a widow, but I don't care, _doo dah, doo dah_ killed my man with my own hands, _oh doo dah day_..." she sang to the tune of "Camptown Races" as she began to drool. Her face may have been temporarily pretty, but her mind was still as warped as that of a sewer rat.

* * *

Lieutenant Kyle Grant, flying his Super Starfighter as the squadron leader of the Silver Dragons, smiled as he approached the blip. "Guys," said Grant, with a smile lighting up his dark, handsome features. "Keesha, Mick and I are on that bird's lower six. The way that pilot's flying that boat, she knows nothing about combat. We can blow her away, but we need to give her a chance to surrender, first."

"Roger," said Lieutenant Keesha Grant, Kyle's wife. "Do you want to tell her, or shall I do it?"

"I'll do it, Mrs. Grant. Enemy pilot..." he said.

"...you are being tracked by aerospace superiority fighter units of the Earth Defense Forces," said Grant's voice on Yvona's radio. "Escape is futile. I advise you to surrender now and return with us to face the authorities. OVER."

"Tell me, son," said Yvona back in Kyle's headset. "Does your dog have fleas?"

"Miss, this has nothing to do with dogs or fleas. This has to do with your sorry butt, which is now in my target scope. This is your last warning before we open fire on you."

"Do you know who I am? I'm Yvona Josiah. The new, improved version.I'm not afraid of you, sonny boy. Ready to die yet?"

Yvona flipped her boat up onto its tail and then dove straight down towards the Silver Dragons like a kamikaze.

Grant and his wingmen all fired at once, but the boat just barely evaded the beams and came close to colliding with Grant before Yvona did another insane maneuver and flew up into a storm cloud.

"This is Wesley," said a voice over Grant's headset. "Sir, should we pursue her?"

"She's flown into heavy cumulus and it's supposed to snow. Negative. Let her go through that and let her wings ice up. She'll kill herself in half an hour. No sane amateur visual flight rules pilot...least that's what I'm guessing she is... would pull off a stupid trick like that...and I don't think she knows how to fly by instruments through that soup, either. She's dead."

Yvona was, indeed, flying blind. She knew how to read the compass, but she had no idea what an artificial horizon, altimeter, background cosmic radiation scope, or other common EDF flight instruments did. Her niece could have flown this route by instruments lacking sleep (as she had done when flying Derek and herself home from their honeymoon), or, better yet, could have just called up a Doppler Radar view on her scope and found a path around or out of the soup easily.

Yvona had none of this knowledge, but her Lord did. Giving the flight over to Ekogaru's dark spirit, she let the Dark Lord guide her hands and feet on the controls like some weird medium in a trance. She laughed and drooled, and continued to sing nonsense, but she was confident Ekogaru would also get her out of this situation.

The radio blared again.

"Hi, what do you guys want?" mocked Yvona. "I'm still flying. Just coming out of a cloud, my friends."

"Terrorist pilot," said a cold official voice. "The Silver Dragons will be back on your course in moments. However, you have other things to worry about. Be warned you are flying right into the path of Battle Satellite Number Fourteen. The satellite is activated and tracking you. You have eighty seconds to surrender and _change your mind_."

"Is this General Thomas Stone talking, honeybunch?" said Yvona.

"How did you know that?" barked Stone.

"I recognize your voice, you old walrus," said Yvona with a smile. "Hiram and I met you at a party last year...sweet cheeks."

"This is irrelevant," snapped Stone. "Whoever you are, you don't have much chance to live if you don't follow our orders."

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Yvona Josiah. I'm back on Earth, or I was. Please cry for me, Stone. I'm a widow. I know. I just killed my husband. How's Singleton doing? When I was wearing Nova's face, I slashed at him, you know. Is he dead yet? Are you the Commander now? Did you get a pay raise? Did you know that you are a vile sinner? Do you know you need the Dark Lord in your life?"

"You have ten seconds," said Stone coldly. "If I cut off, I fire."

"Get stuffed, you walrus," sang Yvona as she shut off the radio again. "Oooo...what's that shiny thing on my radar? That must be your big, bad battle satellite. Oh, I'm sooo scared!"

Yvona laughed like crazy and drooled as the plane broke into space. "Fuel supply's short. Didn't you put gas in this thing, Derek? Does my niece keep you on an allowance? Does she make you lead a cheap life? She was always cheap. Oh...there's the big nasty battle satellite. There's the light, it's ready to fire...Looord help me..."

Yvona let Ekogaru's spirit "fly" the ship again, and she just evaded the huge energy bolt as the satellite fired.

A moment later, two streams of missile exhaust and fire streaked out of nowhere towards the satellite. The torpedoes hit, and the satellite exploded as Yvona looked at her compass and smiled.

"About time you people got here. What kept you? Playing cards on that ship?" snapped Yvona as the dark red form of a R'Khell submarine "surfaced" before her, the sub shimmering in out of subspace with a crazy blast of rainbow colors before it achieved full solidity.

"Be quiet," said a cold R'Khell voice. "With all respect, Prophetess, you have no idea how to fly that boat. Hit the switch near your throttle to the right...that'll turn on the automated beam unit. You will fly in on our docking beam and land. You will not deviate from your course. No time for games...four EDF battleships and several cruisers are vectoring in on us, Prophetess Yvona."

"Switch is on," said Yvona. "You fly me in...sweet cheeks..."

"We intend to do that," said the R'Khell officer coldly. "Sit tight in your cockpit until we re-submerge."

Yvona was drawn towards the R'Khell sub. She smiled while the lower belly hatch opened. Then, a short-range tractor beam took her and she was pulled in to the dark red sub's filthy-looking docking bay.

Her boat was lowered to the deck by a grappling crane. The hatch closed, and then, Yvona felt her stomach lurch as the sub crash-dived back into subspace.

A R'Khell officer in red came up to her boat and saluted after she opened her canopy. Yvona tried to return the salute, but then she shook hands with the officer.

"It's a good thing I can identify your mind as a _R'jkharraz_," said the officer. "Otherwise, you would have been shot as you look nothing like you did days ago, Prophetess."

"Gervner, consider this a miracle of your Warbringer. Alas, it only lasts for one more day. Can you get me to the _Potemkin_ in a few hours?"

"Aye, just a few warps and we are there. The rest of my squadron is tracking the stolen Earth battleship. We were told to take you to the _Potemkin_ by Prophetess Marda, who is on Rikasha. May I ask what you intend to do?" asked the R'Khell officer as he stroked his beard.

"Meet the _Argo_, talk to my niece, and then kill or capture the Star Force. Twinkle, twinkle, little Star Force. How I wonder what you are for."

"Yes...of course," said Gervner. "This way...to your cabin, Lady."

"I know the way. Stop holding my hand, you fool," said Yvona. "Let me go."

"Of course," said Gervner. _With pleasure, you madwoman_, he added to himself.

* * *

Later that evening, EDF Commanding General Charles Singleton was still groggy with anesthesia as he lay in his bed in Central Hospital in a hospital gown talking to General Stone, General Weiner, and his wife, who were all by his bedside.

"Are you sure your neck's all right?" asked Mrs. Dana Singleton.

"Yes...it is. Thank you. I know this bandage is thick. Luckily, the wound wasn't that deep."

"That's good," said Dana with tears in her eyes. "You need to rest."

"Thanks, but we have a briefing to finish," smiled the Commander. "It'll be quick. So, Stone, we lost the boat that left the Wildstar residence?

"Yes, unfortunately," said Stone. "More Josiahite cultists have come out of the woodwork, too. Right now, there's heavy fighting in and around Vladivostok, Istanbul, Long Beach, California in the United States, and Kure here on Great Island."

"All places with either EDF dockyards or air bases nearby," said Singleton. "Do we still have capital ships around any of those yards?"

"We do, sir."

"Well, get them out of there if they can't be secured. Damnit! This is almost as bad as the Unification Wars, Stone. By the way, how's Captain Josiah?"

"Critical condition, sir. Last report I heard indicates he'll need a bionic heart to live," said General Weiner.

"I see. And what about the Star Force?"

"Last I heard, they were still on their mission, sir," said Stone.

"Good," said Singleton as he lay back on his pillow. "At least we have some good news."

A nurse then came in. "People, you need to clear away from this man's bedside. He's been up talking too long. He needs to rest. He will be released on Monday. You can do your business then."

"She's right," added Dana. "Charles...you look so pale! General Stone...you can see he's wounded?"

"Of course," said Stone. "Weiner, let's get going."

"Yessir," said General Weiner.

"Sometimes, one has to take care of things right away," said Singleton.

"The Earth Defense Council is meeting again on Monday," said Stone. "We can handle it then, sir. We're moving more infantry forces to the areas we're they're needed now. I'm sure nothing else will happen."

"How do we know that, Stone?" said Singleton. "Remember, Gideon said that "_Battles are not fought in Defense Council Rooms, gentlemen..._" He had a point, Stone."

"Yes...but he's no longer with us. If you don't wish to join him, maybe you'd better sleep, sir."

Singleton just gave Stone a very sour look.

* * *

"Leader Desslok, we've lost contact with the picket destroyers that were four lightyears ahead of us at TW-312," said Talan a few hours later as a communications officer hailed the ships again and again.

"I wonder what could have happened?" mused Desslok. "What about the cruiser squadron?"

"No contact with them, either, sir," said Talan.

"Eight ships...and we've lost contact. Send a signal to the _Argo_; I'm splitting up the Fleet. Order our newly reorganized First Task force to escort the Pellian battleships off towards Miralden. They have to find sanctuary as soon as possible. I'll take command of our remaining forces and then investigate the area where those squadrons were."

At that, a call came in on the intership phone. An aide presented the ornate phone to Desslok.

"Sir, a call from Astrena; from your suite."

Desslok took the receiver with a slightly irritated look. "_Yes?_"

"Desslok, I have a bad feeling about this. Could you please tell the _Argo_ to leave the area?"

"Why is that?"

"Aliscea," she said. "We need her protected."

"Of course," said Desslok. "You need say no more. I was going to communicate with them soon; I was about to split up the Fleet. I'll see to it the survivors head towards Miralden to safety."

"Thank you," said Astrena as she ended the call. Desslok then hung up.

"What was that?" asked Talan.

"Not as bad as Invidia's call a few months ago, luckily," said Desslok. "Astrena senses something. She'd like the _Argo_ out of the area. She senses danger. And, I agree. Something about those destroyers' sudden silence doesn't seem right. Those men are trained not to lose contact like that when they should be on guard protecting our perimeter of operations. They know that if they fail in their guard, they'd face _my_ wrath."

"What do you think happened?" said Talan.

"It was quite sudden...I have my suspicions," said Desslok. "Kindly get that message sent to the _Argo_ now."

"Yessir," snapped Talan with a crisp salute.

* * *

"We've got a message from Desslok!" said Homer on the _Argo's_ bridge.

Venture was in command at his Navigation station; the wedding reception was beginning to break up, and Mark had just gotten a call from Derek that Paul and Aliscea had slipped back off to their quarters; they were both looking very pale and tired.

"Yes?" said Venture. "Is it on visual, or text?"

"Text, sir," said Homer with a hurt sound in his voice as he stood up with the data tape in his hands.

"Read it," snapped Venture.

"_This is Leader Desslok_," read Homer. "_We have lost contact with a picket destroyer squadron and a strike cruiser squadron, located four lightyears ahead of us. We are leaving the area to investigate; I have dispatched the Pellians out of the area with my First Task Force. Astrena senses danger; she recommends that you warp out of the area as soon as possible on your way towards the Great Magellenic Cloud. I hope to meet you there in a few weeks, and regret that our paths must separate. We shall soon meet again. Signed, Desslok of Gamilon_."

"Should we trust his advice?" asked Venture after he turned his chair around to face Sandor.

"It's not his advice; it's Astrena's," said Sandor. "Astrena's presence on his ship seems to mean that as long as Aliscea is with us, it'd be impossible for him to give any advice that would be prejudicial to us; not that I think he'd act against his own interests at any rate. Like it or not, Venture, our fates and the Gamilons' _are_ bound together."

"The Gamilons are warping out," said Holly from the Cosmo-Radar.

Mark looked out, and noticed the flashes of light that indicated the departure of the Fleet. "Wherever you're going, good luck, Desslok," he said in a low voice. "And it's about time that we warped out, too," said Venture. "Dash, order our BARCAP back in."

"Yessir," said Dash. "Attention, Hartmann. This is Dash. Get your planes back in the ship ASAP."

"Roger," said Laurel aboard her strike fighter. "We'll be back with you in ten minutes. All right, people...all Tigers...get back to the den."

Outside, Hartmann's squadron of Cosmo Tiger II's began to maneuver back towards the _Argo_.

"They're on their way back," said Dash.

"Great," said Venture. "Yamazaki," he said as he looked back towards the station normally occupied by Orion. The aged Chief Engineer was now resting since it was, after all, 2200 Hours and it wasn't his watch. "Begin powering up the engines for a space warp." Venture began to punch in the appropriate course. "We'll be warping out four thousand lightyears in a parabolic course towards the edge of Dalton's Nebula."

"Dalton's Nebula," said Parsons. "Isn't that part of the huge area of developing stars that eventually ends up in the Octopus Star Storm?"

"Yes, but we're approaching it from another angle," said Venture. "Two more warps of ten thousand lightyears each over the next two days, and we'll be back in the area around the Octopus Star Storm again...a great place to pick up our journey towards Iscandar."

"Yeah...if we don't get caught up in that thing again," said Dash.

"No worry, I'll get us around that," said Venture.

"Maybe you won't," mused Sandor. "That system was in constant flux when we were there. Every channel we knew of could've been obliterated by those streams of plasma flowing between those stars. None of our charts might be accurate now. Even the Gamilons would probably have to take new surveys of the area if they had to go back in there. We'd better take this a little more slowly. After all, Dalton's Nebula is the beginning of that region of instability..."

"Should we change course?" asked Venture.

"No...we'll be fine...but we'd better watch ourselves afterwards."

* * *

"Derek, when are you going to stop writing in that log of yours?" asked Nova in their quarters.

Captain Wildstar smiled but just kept on typing on his computer. "I'm almost done," he said. "I just had to record the last of what happened when Paul and Aliscea left the observation deck."

"By then, Desslok had already left," said Nova. She smiled and yawned a little. "Your tea's getting cold."

"I thought you had it in the pot," he said as he came over to the small counter where Nova had the teapot.

"I poured it for you a minute ago," she said. She was standing near their locker in a sleepshirt. She had put her dress and heels away a long time ago, and was padding around the compartment in her flip-flops. "Want the heat up in here? It's cold again."

"Yeah, it is getting a little cold," mused Derek. His jacket was off, and he was wearing Japanese-style house slippers himself. "Tea's not bad, thanks," he said.

"You're welcome," replied Nova with a smile.

At that moment, the klaxons went off. "_Attention, all hands. Attention, all hands_," said Venture over the PA system. "_We are due to warp in five minutes. Please begin making all preparations for entry into warp now. Be sure that all breakables are properly secured, and use your safety belts in order to prevent accidents_."

"Wonder where he's taking us?" said Derek.

"Derek, we're off duty until tomorrow morning," said Nova. "Don't worry about it...the _Argo's _in good hands until then. Want me to help strap you in your chair?"

"Oh, I wanted to help _you_ out," said Derek as he quickly sipped at his tea and gave Nova a kiss.

They enjoyed their kiss. "That reminds me," mused Nova. "I wonder how Paul and Aliscea are doing?"

"Think of our wedding night and guess," said Derek with a smirk.

"I just hope they have enough sense to use their safety belts..."

* * *

"...can't buy me love, Paul," gasped Aliscea as they lay together in their bed, again bonded in mind, body and spirit.

"Where'd you get that from, _D'Shen?_" asked Rosstowski as he switched position a little and ran a hand over Aliscea. Neither of them were, of course, dressed. Their clothes were in disarray all over the VIP Suite.

"From in your mind, silly," she cried. "Thank the Eternal the door's locked! Nothing in the world can bother us now..."

Paul vaguely heard the klaxons. "Warp signal," he said out loud. "Sorry, hon...I need to get to the restraining straps..."

"No bother, I'll do it," said Aliscea as she shut her eyes a little. As she kissed him, Paul Rosstowski felt Aliscea's mind reaching out to the straps. Then, she used her power to close them as they lay there in their embrace..

"What's going to happen?" gasped Aliscea.

"We're about to warp...should we stop this?"

"Heck, no," said Aliscea. "We're together...we're enjoying _Shalinskar_," said Aliscea in his mind.

"But you don't know what can happen during a warp!"

"You forget, I've been through quite a few," she said in his mind as they kissed.

"_So?_" he thought, pleased he was being heard in his wife's mind.

"We enjoy the experience...we can't break this link now! Off we go!"

* * *

"_ten seconds_," said Venture's voice over the PA system. "_Ten_..._nine_..." said Venture as, in their cabin, strapped in their seats, Derek and Nova smiled at each other before they shut their eyes for the space warp.

"_eight...seven..._" said Venture as, in bliss, Paul and Aliscea ignored what was about to happen.

"_six...five..._" said Venture as, in his cabin, Hemsford strapped himself down.

"_four...three..._" continued Venture as, in his cabin, Bryan Hartcliffe stroked a silent Angie's hair. She had said very little since she had been released from Sickbay. Bryan, as he held her, grew angrier and angrier about how she had been raped by their depraved enemies on Pellias.

"_two..._" said Venture over the PA as, in the _Argo's_ engineering lab, Neville Royster looked at the broken pieces of IQ-9 that he had been working on, and wondered if he'd ever get back to work on trying to repair the shattered, burned robot tonight. _I'm so tired,_ he thought. _Maybe I'll get back to work on him...maybe I won't. _

"One..." said Venture on the _Argo's_ bridge. "Zero. _WARP!_"

Mark's hand pulled the lever back, and the space battleship _Argo_ oozed out of normal space in a blur and riot of color.

* * *

In their cabin, Paul and Aliscea panicked, and then began to laugh as reality twisted around them. It looked to them as if they were floating into some bizarre dream where dishes and spoons were talking to each other in some strange black-and-white world.

"What's that?" asked Aliscea.

"A cartoon I saw as a kid," said Paul as they kicked away their blanket; it had grown teeth and was beginning to bark at them like a dog. Near them, talking eggs were singing bizarre ribald songs in Old Pellian. Some monster made of dough swung a samurai sword at them...in the throes of passion, Paul swatted at it and went back to kissing Aliscea as they floated off through a galaxy in the fourth dimension and also floated again through each other's memories.They shared their deepest feelings and fears in snatches of thought as they and the _Argo_ fell back into normal space with a loud humming noise. They were so lost in the afterglow of their love that they barely noticed that they were back in the normal universe again.

"So, what's happened?" asked Aliscea.

"We're out of warp. We're back."

"Great, Paul," said Aliscea.

"Okay...let's take a nap."

"Good, Paul. I'll see you in your dreams."

"Literally?" asked Paul.

"Yes."

"I was afraid of that," he smiled as they kissed and began to doze off in each other's arms.

* * *

"Warp completed," said Venture. As the usual buzzing noise subsided, they saw that they were in an area of space with few stars and with a yellow-orange glow off in the distance.

"What's that?" asked Ensign Packard, a new crewmember from Combat who was helping to keep watch tonight in Rosstowski's usual Artillery Station.

"Dalton's Nebula," said Holly. "It's beautiful, isn't it? We're still many thousands of lightyears away...we glimpsed it on the way to Iscandar from another angle."

"Where's the Voton Stars?" asked Homer.

"Well behind us now," said Venture. "We've officially left our own galaxy now. Let me give you guys the view to aft..."

Venture brought up the main screen and, suddenly, a spectacular view appeared above their heads on the bridge. "_That's_ our galaxy?" said Packard in awe. "_Wow_. It looks bigger than it did on the slides at the Space Fighters' Training School."

"We were the first Earth people ever to see that view from outside the Galaxy," said Holly. "Sends chills down your spine looking at it, doesn't it?"

"And here's where we going," said Mark as he switched the screen to a forward view. "I know you can see that through the windows...but the view's better on the screen."

"What's that little blur off towards the lower left?" asked Packard.

"The Great Magellenic Cloud itself," said Sandor. "Right now, we're just a hundred and twenty-one thousand lightyears away. Earth is already twenty-seven thousand lightyears beyond us, back there...in the Milky Way."

"It's so awe-inspiring," said Packard.

"And, also, very dangerous," added Venture. "We know more than we did even back in the fall of 2200. But, still, who knows what could be out there?"

"But it's beautiful. Probably wonderful for lovers," snorted Homer. "Can Paul and Aliscea see this?"

"No...but the Captain and Nova sure can," said Sandor. "Just a few decks above us...the view must be _great_."

* * *

"Dalton's Nebula," sighed Nova as she turned the lights down in the Captain's Cabin. "The view's gorgeous...the stars...the band of light..."

"And the Great Magellenic Cloud," said Derek as he opened his shirt. "Well...time to get rid of this..."

"Don't honey...I'll do it," said Nova as she came up to her husband.

"Sure there's no patrols out tonight?"

"It's dark in here...no one could even see us," said Nova as she slid her bare feet out of her flip-flops. She slowly unzipped his white Star Force shirt and began to rub his undershirt.

"I've always wanted to do this," she whispered.

"What?"

"Make love to you, like this...under the stars, far from the Earth, where you can see them better." said Nova in a soft voice. "It's such a beautiful night, too."

Derek kissed her and watched the starlight reflecting in her eyes for a minute. "Nova..." he whispered. "Me, too, my love...me too."

And, at that, he began to slowly relieve Nova of her sleepshirt...

* * *

V. A MAD FLIGHT CONTINUED

Command Cruiser _Gamilstadt_

The Gamilon Fleet

Deep Space

Saturday, January 16, 2202

0212 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Leader Desslok sipped at a goblet of wine while Talan laid some shattered armor plate on an analysis table in the Combat Intelligence cabin on his flagship. "That's from one of the destroyers, I take it?"

"Yessir," replied Talan. "This is right around a heavy-caliber energy beam hit," he said, holding up a battered ring of metal. "We've concluded our analysis...this ship was blasted apart by a plasma weapon commonly deployed by the Earth forces. From the half-life of the radiation; it happened about five or six hours ago."

"When we were with the _Argo_," reasoned Desslok. "Hmmm... Unless some other marauding Earth vessel has decided to turn against us, this atrocity must have been committed by that rogue Earth battleship Wildstar told us about. What was its name again, Talan?"

"It's known as the _Potemkin_, sir, if I remember your report correctly," said Talan. He nodded to an enlisted man in brown armor, and a Gamilon intelligence graphic of a _Jamaica_-class EDF Main Battleship appeared on a screen. "It's pretty well armed, from what I can see, but not as well-armed as the _Argo_...it won't be as much of a challenge to bring down. I take it the Earth Government considers them rebels?"

Desslok sipped at his wine again, setting down the goblet. "Yes. Wildstar has orders to capture that ship...or finish it off."

"_Great_," said Talan with a smile. "I don't think our...Terran allies would mind if we destroyed her if we ran into her again, sir?"

"Not at all," said Desslok. "Even Aliscea would not think to protest against our actions regarding this ship. Wildstar told me it was captured by a band of Terran religious fanatics who have somehow been working with our enemies."

"Sir, I've completed the analysis of the wreckage of one of the strike cruisers," said another officer as he came in with a ream of paperwork.

Desslok grabbed the papers and began reading them over. "R'Khell weapons," he murmured while reading the report. "This ship was near the wreckage of the destroyer we've been analyzing. It appears that it was hit by some of their torpedoes."

"Space submarines, perhaps?" said Talan.

"It would appear so," said Desslok. "We had better see if we can warn Wildstar of our intelligence...and, perhaps, the Earth Defense High Command to warn them of the same thing. Needless to say, I shall also alert our second fleet, on its way to Miralden with the refugees."

"Yessir."

* * *

In the meantime, on the _Argo_, while Paul and Aliscea Rosstowski fell asleep, enjoying their first full night of wedded bliss, another tender scene was taking place quite a few decks above them in the dimly lit Captain's Quarters at the top of the bridge tower.

Lieutenant Nova Wildstar smiled as Captain Derek Wildstar kissed her again. Her smile turned softer as he began to kiss her neck. She snuggled against his bare chest, savoring his warmth. When Derek hit a certain part of her neck, she both shivered and giggled a little.

Nova played with Derek's unruly hair for a bit after they kissed. Derek kissed her again, this time on the mouth. They shared a long, deep kiss, but soon he went lower as he again kissed her neck, and then went down her shoulder to a point below her collarbone. "You don't want me to stop, do you?" he said in a low voice.

"No...we had fun before, but I'm restless for some reason. I...I want you again, Derek."

"Good," he replied. At that, their lips met, and as they began to melt into each other's arms like ice cream on a hot day, their view of the stars through the huge dome of the _Argo's_ Captain's Quarters was suddenly sullied by a harsh flash of light. An all-too-familiar thunderclap rang through the guts of the space battleship, and the bunk suddenly trembled beneath the unclad lovers.

"Ohhh...Not NOW!" cried Nova. She banged a fist into the mattress.

"CRAP!" barked Derek. Another flash of light appeared, and Derek threw his body over his wife's.The ship trembled again, and Nova had to dig her fingers and toes into the mattress and embrace Derek's waist between her knees to keep both of them from literally being thrown out of their marital bed.

A moment later, they were both on their feet as the all-too-familiar warning klaxons began to blow. The voice of Dash, tonight's OOD came over the speakers. "Attention, all hands! We are under attack from enemy torpedoes. Duty crew and Captain to the bridge!" Military efficiency and marital tenderness became strange bedfellows as the two lovers-and shipmates-helped each other dress in their Star Force uniforms as rapidly as possible and make themselves as presentable as they could without the luxury of a shower. The cabin lights went back up on full when they were minimally decent in about one minute.

Some more time passed, and they were almost done. "Two minutes this time," said Nova as Derek put her sole remaining yellow boot on her bare foot...they had no time to pull on their socks.

"Yeah, not bad," replied Derek as Nova fixed his ascot and buttoned up his coat. "You've got your weapon, right?"

Nova nodded. "Right here. Let's defend this ship."

"Right. God willing, we'll get back to this later," said Derek.

"I'll take a rain check," said Nova. They kissed quickly and then bounded out the hatch to the stairwell.

* * *

They were among the first of the regular Command Crew back on the bridge. Nova smoothed her hands through her hair, running towards her radar as an enlisted man from Navigation struggled with it.

"I can't get an image, ma'am...it just went out; dead."

"There's power getting to it," cried Nova as she frantically manipulated controls on the board. "Still nothing, Derek!" she cried.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Wildstar as he ran over.

"Power's getting to it, and it's on-line, but the scan image isn't going through the circuits."

"We've got a bogie to starboard, distance, two megameters," said Holly Parsons. "It just emerged from subspace...switching to the video panel."

The panel changed. "One of those R'Khell subs," said Venture. "I wonder what their game is...they're not even trying to use stealth, this time."

"Main guns are on target on it," said Dash. "Should I open fire?"

Wildstar nodded. The _Argo's_ guns went off, and the sub took a glancing blow...just as Parsons cried, "Missiles approaching from dead on the bow!"

"Brace for impact!" barked Derek. He leaned against the back of Nova's seat as the ship took another hit.

The light of the explosion went out just as Orion and Rosstowski flew onto the bridge to relieve the others. Both looked rumpled.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," said Rosstowski, who was very much out of breath.

"How's Aliscea?" asked Wildstar.

"Fine...we had to break our still-forming mental link for a bit, but she should be fine for a..."

"Rosstowski, disregard the order to report to the bridge, as far as you were concerned," said Wildstar. "Get back to Aliscea and make sure she's well."

"Sir...did I hear you right?" said Paul. "We're at battle stations...Packard can't run my post...he has to run #3 turret."

"Are you disputing my _orders_, Rosstowski?" snapped Derek. "Dash, take Rosstowski's post for the time being; I still remember how to run Combat myself." Dash followed Derek's orders, got up and took over the Artillery post. With an angry gesture, Wildstar opened his Captain's jacket and threw it over the back of the chair with his scarf before sitting down at his post in just his Star Force uniform shirt, slacks, and shoes. With his hair in his eyes, he momentarily looked quite a bit younger.

"Derek, you need to command the ship," said Venture.

"Mark, you know damn well I've run the ship from here before, I'll do it again if I have to."

"Yessir," said Venture with a black look as Wildstar slid into his old bridge post, just vacated by Dash. A bemused Rosstowski looked at the scene and almost ran into Homer on the way out.

"What's with him?" snapped Homer. "Anxious to get back to his _wedding night_?"

"Homer, _shut up!_ Wildstar _ordered_ him to do it!" cried Venture. Another hit caused the ship to shake. "Nova...is the radar working on bridge number three?" asked Venture.

"No...it's dead there, too. I know...we need to be able to scan beyond a few megameters."

"I figured it out," said Sandor. "The tertiary bus just shorted out. I can patch limited signal from the radar aerials over to Analysis until Royster, Parmon, and Henson fix it."

"Since IQ's not here, I can scan from there...sort of," said Nova. "Derek, request permission to change my post."

"Granted...take Analysis and see what you can tell us."

Nova ran over and sat down hard in the chair to Derek's left at the forward part of the first bridge. "I've got an object," she said a moment later. "Range...six megameters...she's right off our bow...just waiting. She's big. Switching to video panel."

The panel switched, and Derek's teeth gritted as an image of the _Potemkin_ appeared on the main screen. "Not _them_ again!" he said.

"They're sending a signal," said Homer. "The commander's some girl...she says she wants to talk to you and Nova."

Nova's eyebrows went up in puzzlement. _Yvona's not a girl anymore_, she thought. She looked at Derek, who just said, "Homer, put it up on the video panel."

"Yessir. It's coming through, now."

A young, arrogant-looking woman appeared on the video panel. She had dark brown shoulder-length hair, and was wearing a black and red EDF peacoat spattered with rusty spots of blood. Under it, she wore a young woman's pink romper, also stained with blood. She sat impishly on the Captain's console of the _Potemkin_, rather than back in the command seat, making certain that her long legs and pink boots were showing.

Nova's eyes began to go wide. "...Like the old family pictures..._how?_" she murmured. "And she's wearing some of _my _clothes!"

"Nova?" asked Derek.

"Derek...that's Yvona...the way she looked when she was _my_ age."

"_Yvona?_" hissed Captain Wildstar.

"I see at least _one_ of you recognizes me, Star Force," mocked Yvona. "For the rest of you...I am Yvona Josiah. I have been made young again, for now, at least, by the power of Ekogaru the Great. He, I, and the Rikashan Star Empire demand your surrender..._immediately_."

"Tell me, Yvona...are you being _serious_?" said Captain Wildstar.

"I am. You are surrounded. You have no way out. My people, as you see them, are the true heirs of Earth. We have decided to join forces with the _winning_ side."

"You really want a fight?" said Derek.

"I'm not here for a family reunion, Captain Wildstar," mocked Yvona. "Not with you, and not with the little trollop sitting beside you."

"Well, we're not here for a reunion, either, Yvona," snapped Nova. "As my husband just said; if you want trouble, you've come to the right place."

"Good," said Yvona with a smile. "Let's get on with it, then. I hope you'll enjoy the oblivion of death, my dear niece."

The image cut off, and several beams of plasma energy roared in from the _Potemkin_.

"Incoming fire!" cried Nova. "She's turned her main guns upon us!"

"Evasive, twenty degrees port," said Venture, who tilted the _Argo_ over on its central horizontal axis.

"Range, five point five megameters," cried Nova. "Speed...twenty-six space knots and accelerating. It looks like a frontal attack!"

"And I can easily take care of that," smiled Derek. "Venture, forty-five degrees to port. Open all guns...target...space battleship _Potemkin_!"

To Be Continued With Act Four--"Getting up Close and Personal"

* * *

****

THERE ARE NOW 129 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

STAR BLAZERS---THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE

Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz

* * *

Notes: (1 )This installment was partially written with the help and advice of those on the **ScarletScarf Yahoo! Fan Fiction Writing Group**. Thanks for the ideas, Glenn and everyone else---**Freddo**

(2) Thanks again to Gold Angel for the wonderful reviews on I am so glad that this story is being raed and enjoyed there. Now on with the show!

* * *

ACT FOUR--GETTING UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL

* * *

I. YET ANOTHER AGGRESSION...

Space Battleship _Argo_

Deep Space

Saturday, January 16, 2202

0337 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"Distance to the _Potemkin_, now just five megameters!" cried Nova from the _Argo's_ Analysis station on the first bridge. "They're firing missiles!"

"Starboard pulse lasers, open fire!" barked Wildstar. Two of the missiles exploded near the _Argo's_ stern, but the ship's powerful pulse laser battery got the rest of them.

Then, fire roared in from the _Potemkin's_ main guns as the ship turned to face the _Argo_ broadside. The _Argo_ took three more hits...one near the stern, and two to the starboard side.

"Starboard catapult hit!" barked Sandor. "Starboard keel observation post near bridge number three hit!"

"Forty-five to port, Venture," said Wildstar. "Dash, fire bow missiles!"

"Firing bow missiles," said Dash as more fire roared in from the _Potemkin_. However, they had missed.

The _Argo's_ missiles streaked off and hit the stern of the _Potemkin_. "We got their aft main gun turret!" cried Nova. "The ship's slowing down and changing course."

"Venture, back around, sixty degrees. Line us up for a broadside."

"Sixty degrees...starboard," said Venture. The _Argo_ majestically turned, leaving a trail of smoke and flame across the darkness of space.

"A message has just come in...it's from the Gamilons!" said Homer.

"What's the message about?" demanded Captain Wildstar.

"Sir," said Homer as he looked at the tape. "They're warning us to look out for the _Potemkin_. It seems that she and the R'Khells attacked their advance picket fleet a few hours ago. It seems they just discovered who was behind the attack."

"We sure could've used that warning a bit earlier than this," said Wildstar. "But, anyway, thanks, Desslok," he said with a grim smile.

"We're now facing the _Potemkin_ broadside and all of our guns are aimed at her." said Dash. "Should we open fire?"

Derek reached for his firing pickle. "No time like the present. All guns, _open fire!_"

The _Potemkin_ fired again, but all of the energy beams missed. At the same time, the _Argo_ fired a withering broadside at the _Potemkin_ from all three of her main turrets and her two auxiliary turrets. The bolts of energy roared across space and impacted cruelly against the enemy ship's hull. The rogue Earth ship's remaining forward main guns were silenced as the two forward turrets were methodically blown to bits. Hits followed on the ship's communications antenna, radar array, and lower bridge tower. Finally, the starboard side gun emplacements located below the bridge tower were blown into junk by a surge of energy from the _Argo_ that ripped down the _Potemkin's_ hull like a hot knife.

The rogue battleship slowly turned and then stopped. It just sat there smoking as the _Argo_ blew apart two of the escorting R'Khell submarines. Another sub fired its torpedoes at the _Argo_ but the torpedo spread was stopped dead by a pulse laser array as the Star Force continued to successfully defend its ship. A moment later, the sub that had fired at the _Argo_ submerged in a glimmer of light and vanished.

"Nova, watch for a shadow from that sub...it's probably lurking around," said Derek.

"Roger."

"Sandor, I think we got her communications antenna, didn't we?"

"Looks like it," said Sandor as he compared an image of the ship to an engineering graphic of the class he had pulled up from the _Argo's_ computers. "She also took some light damage earlier...probably from the Gamilons defending themselves. From what I can see, our hits did the most damage...she's _very_ heavily damaged. It looks like one gun on her aft turret might still be able to fire, though. She's got that, her port side broadside guns, and most of her missiles. It also looks like some of her maneuvering thrusters may be out."

"Then how do I communicate with them to request their surrender?" mused Derek. "There's innocent people on that ship that the cultists captured, according to what Captain Josiah told us. I can't kill the innocent along with the guilty."

"Wildstar, they've still got their long-range laser communication units," said Sandor. "We'll have to do it by signal lights."

"Got it. Homer, send them this message. **_Potemkin, your attack was unsuccessful. We've incurred only minor damage. Surrender and prepare to be boarded before we are forced to destroy you. Signed, Derek Wildstar, Captain, Earth Federation Space Battleship Argo and Commander of the Star Force._**"

"Yessir," said Homer. His hands began to fly over his keys.

* * *

A klaxon blew manically on the smoke-filled First Bridge of the _Potemkin_ as Yvona Josiah struggled to her feet. Her face was bloody, and she was covered with soot and dirt. Fires burned here and there on the ship's ruined bridge as circuits burned out and stopped functioning forever.

"Who's left alive?" demanded Yvona. "Huh? Who's left?" She coughed, remembering that in spite of her metamorphosis, she was still mortal. Unable to see much in the fog, she looked at a reflection of her face in a nearby darkened computer screen. "Damn...my hair is white again! I'm losing my beauty! I'm losing my _beauty! _I'm turning back into a damned crone again!"

"I'm alive, you idiot," coughed Ray Haverford as he stood up at the helm. "Noah's alive at the Mechanical/Science post. Joshua's alive at the Combat post. Cornelius at Artillery is dead. Jared is getting up. Caleb's dead, and Naomi and her baby are dead. We have nobody at radar, now. Not that it even works."

"Jezebel, are you still alive?" demanded Yvona as she turned to Communications.

"Wounded," gasped the redheaded young woman who sat there in sackcloth and sandals. "I'm bleeding all over the place, Prophetess...and I'm _scared_!" she screamed. "I never knew being in your church would be like _this! _Are you _crazy?_" she sobbed.

"Shut up, you brainless idiot!" snapped Yvona. She punctuated her point by viciously slapping the wounded woman.

"But, Naomi's dead, Yvona! So's her baby, Esther! Look!"

"So. People die in war, girl-child! This is a holy war. Twelve of us on the Navigation Bridge are dead. All their souls have gone right to Paradise!"

"We're going right to hell unless we move this ship," snapped Haverford.

"Why are you ordering me around?" demanded Yvona.

"Because _I_ know what the hell I'm _doing_!" yelled Haverford. "What were you doing on Earth all those days? Following some crazy dream of yours? And don't you know these miracles are alien tricks?"

"Blasphemer!" yelled Yvona. "Lord, strike him down!"

Yvona felt the power a moment later. She smiled as lightning roared out of her fingers and hit Haverford. The man died screaming a moment later.

Smiling with satisfaction, Yvona kicked his carbonized corpse to the deck and took the helm herself. "Any other arguments?"

"Prophetess," said Jezebel meekly.

"Oh? Do you want to die, too?'

"No, the _Argo's_ sending some laser signal...I can't make it out..."

"My power source is running out," said the blue, squat robot sitting at Analysis. "I am a Tenth Class, a hyper-genius. I, IQ-10, will analyze the message. It is a laser burst..."

"Read it off, you tin can," snorted Yvona.

"It reads as follows: **_Potemkin, your attack was unsuccessful. We've incurred only minor damage. Surrender and prepare to be boarded before we are forced to destroy you. Signed, Derek Wildstar, Captain, Earth Federation Space Battleship Argo and Commander of the Star Force. _**What should we do?" asked IQ-10 while lights flashed in his blue-trimmed dome that looked both like and unlike the older IQ-9's dome.

"Tin can, you and Jezebel send back the following. "Go to hell, Wildstar. I'm sending a final attack that will kill you all. Then, Jared, give me power. I'm crash-warping out of here..."

"Ma'am, that's dangerous," said Noah. Yvona just glared at him. "But...I'll try routing the power so we can do it. What course are you calculating?"

"The course that's in there," said Yvona as she turned a knob. "I'm heading back to the solar system...towards Earth. Joshua, fire one last spread of torpedoes. IQ-10...signal the remaining submarine with the sonar comm unit they installed...tell them to follow us."

"Aye _aye_, ma'am," said IQ-10 as he and Jezebel worked.

"Oh...I am going to do one last thing before we head back towards the solar system. Let me do the following with the ship..."

* * *

"We're receiving another message from the _Potemkin!_" said Homer. "They're communicating with signal lasers...it'll take a moment to interpret this."

"What are they saying?" asked Wildstar.

"They're saying: _' Go to hell, Wildstar. I'm sending a final attack that will kill you all.'_ Message ends."

Nova sighed. "Derek, you gave them a chance to surrender...looks like they don't want to take it."

"Then I'll have no choice but to finish them off," said Derek.

"Those poor crewmembers caught up in this by those fanatics," said Nova. "Well, looks like I'll never get my pink romper back, either. I wonder how she got at my clothes?"

"One of your things is on that ship?" asked Venture.

"Yes...Yvona's wearing my clothes under that Captain's jacket of hers. That jacket...it looks a lot like the kind Uncle Hiram wears. I hope he's all right."

"What are they doing, Nova?" asked Derek.

"Turning about, gaining speed..."

"Prepare all main guns...target, _Potemkin_," said Derek as the gun turrets swung around again and the guns began to lock. "One final barrage should finish them..."

"They're gaining speed," cried Nova. "Twenty-seven space knots...twenty-eight...twenty-nine... Distance...now two megameters...one point eight megameters...one point five...and...they're heading right for the bridge tower!

"What?" said a surprised Derek.

"Wildstar, they're trying to ram us!" said Venture. "Bow downwards...thirty degrees..."

The _Argo_ tilted downwards, trying to escape as the badly damaged _Potemkin_ roared in, obviously trying to ram the _Argo_.

"Reset main turrets," barked Wildstar. "Lock on approaching target, Dash!"

"Locked on!"

"_Fire!_" cried Derek.

The _Argo's_ guns went off, but the _Potemkin_ evaded all of the energy beams except one, which blew off the large stabilizer fin that hung from her keel.

Venture tilted the _Argo_ again as the _Potemkin_ roared in. A moment later, the Star Force felt a jarring impact. The huge battleship's lower bow slammed directly into the _Argo's_ third aft gun turret, tearing it to scrap metal and brutally killing most of the gun crew inside. With a loud grinding noise and tons of sparks flying all over the place, the two ships ended up attached together for a moment by all of the debris. A second later, the _Potemkin's_ momentum caused her to rip free and roar away, leaving her anti-gravity compensator units behind to smash into the _Argo's_ main communications antenna mast, tearing it to pieces.

The near-wrecked _Potemkin_, no one on the _Argo_ knew how, blasted away from the _Argo_ and headed off the older space battleship's starboard side. A moment later, just half a megameter away, the _Potemkin_ warped away in a burst of crazed, multi-colored light, along with the rest of the submarines, leaving a very stunned and angry Star Force sitting aboard a ship that was smoking heavily from the stern and torn and rent in several places.

"I couldn't even get a final shot in at those maniacs!" yelled Dash. "_Damnit!_" he cried as he banged his panel with a fist.

"It's okay, Dash," said a stunned Wildstar. "A suicide run...just like the Gamilon battleship used against us in the Minerva asteroid belt a few years back when we were on our way to Iscandar. I knew they were crazy...but not that crazy."

"You can never predict the actions of a fanatic, Wildstar," said Sandor. "They apparently care nothing for life as we do. And, thanks to them, the ship is heavily damaged."

"I know," said Derek. "Sandor...do you think they could have survived that warp? They were badly damaged, too."

"It's hard to tell," said Sandor. "There's a fifty-fifty chance they didn't even survive entry into the Fourth Dimension. I don't know if we'll be seeing them again or not."

"Nova, is the area around us clear?" asked Derek.

Nova just nodded. "There's nothing around us now but wreckage and silence." She threw herself back in the chair with a sigh. "The battle's over."

"Parsons?" asked Wildstar. "Scan the area to make sure they didn't leave mines behind."

"Roger," said Holly. She ran a tactical radar scan. "We're clear...nothing that could check out as mines."

"All right," said Derek. He spoke into the intership microphone at his post. "All hands...the battle is over. Stand down the alert. Conroy, take off with a squadron and re-establish a perimeter BARCAP around us. Keep an eye out for them in case they come back."

"Got it," said an exhausted-sounding Conroy from the lower fighter bay.

Nova got up and stretched. "Where are you going?" asked Derek.

"I'll have to go up to our cabin and get a Medical uniform. Dr. Sane will need me to assist with wounded being brought in from the aft portion of the ship."

"Right...I'll meet you in our cabin in a moment. Sandor, can we get started on those repairs?"

"Our first priority will be getting the radar back, then communications," said Sandor. "After that...I'll see what we can do with that aft main turret. It's probably going to take several days to get it rebuilt."

"Yeah...and I've got to check out Navigation," said Venture as he got up.

"Yeah...good luck," sighed Derek as he got up. _I feel like I've got a wedgie from hell inside my pants...but why?_ thought Wildstar to himself. Wildstar grabbed up his peacoat and scarf. "Dash, you're in command. Sorry I had to borrow your seat."

"That's all right," said Dash.

"Derek, one of us had better check on Paul and Aliscea," said Nova as she stood near the Astro-Compass.

"Nova...maybe you can do it on the way to Sickbay," suggested Wildstar.

"Yeah...guess that'll work..."

Both of them left the bridge in conversation a moment later, followed by Venture.

"Well, what do you think, Homer?" asked Dash.

"About what?"

"About our lovebirds? They sure looked...worse for wear when they got on the bridge at the start of the battle. Wonder what they were up to?"

"With that look on Nova's face...I've got a thousand guesses, Dash...none of them quite fit for public discussion."

"Then why are you guys discussing it on the bridge?" asked Orion. "There are some things about what a man and a woman do together that are best left private..."

"And why's that?" said Homer. "Nova's damn cute."

"Homer, she's married to th' Captain," protested Orion. "For the love of God, let them have their privacy?"

"What privacy? They're on a ship with us," smirked Dash.

"Oh, you two...just wait until ye have steady girlfriends. Then, dollars to donuts...you'll both be singin' a different tune," said Orion.

* * *

Nova and Derek had just arrived back in their quarters. "I feel weird," said Captain Wildstar.

"Why's that?" asked Nova as she began undoing her uniform.

"I must have pulled my things on wrong before...I feel so uncomfortable."

"Oh...really?" asked Nova as she threw one of her Medical minidresses over the door of her locker. "Could you elaborate on that...I...?" Then, Nova pulled the upper half of her jumpsuit down, followed by the lower half. "Oh, dear...this is weird."

"What's weird?"

"Derek...we must have gotten very confused before. I'm...I'm wearing your boxer shorts."

"What?" said Derek as he looked at his wife. Sure enough, Nova was standing there in her bra and Captain Wildstar's skivvies. "Oh, _great_," he said. He slowly opened his pants and let them slide down.

Nova's mouth fell open, and then she broke out in a helpless stream of giggles.

"Nova, why are you laughing so hard?" chuckled Wildstar.

"Derek...you look _adorable_ in pink! Maybe we should get our things mixed up more often!" she cried, leaning against her husband, who was wearing his open Star Force shirt and her panties. "This is so _funny_!" she chortled. "Excuse me!"

"Nova, what are you doing...? Nova...?"

"_Smile!_" she sang as she whipped out Derek's camera and took a picture of her husband in his mixed-up attire.

"I'm going to lose it soon," giggled Wildstar as he looked at the picture. "Nova, I swear...I'm going to kill you..."

Then, he just gave up and fell on the deck beside his wife. They embraced, both of them laughing their heads off until tears ran down their cheeks.

"We can't let this happen again," chuckled Derek.

"Why?"

"Nova, I've got a wedgie from hell in your underwear!"

Both of them laughed even harder, finally gaining some sense of sobriety about a minute later.

"Let me guess, another one for our photo album, right?" said Derek.

"Right. It goes right near the one where I slapped you," Nova replied.

"Yeah...that brings back memories," said Derek as he began to peel off his underwear...or hers...

"No...let me do it," said Nova. She did it slowly; Derek followed up by pulling his boxers off his wife. Both of them fell into each other's arms and kissed for a bit, until Nova realized. "Oh...Dr. Sane needs me. That's why I was getting changed in the first place."

"Yeah," sighed Derek. "Duty calls...again."

"I know," said Nova as she began to dress properly. "Honey...you need a cold shower..."

"So do you," said Derek.

Nova blushed. "I think being in Sickbay and helping treat our wounded will do it for me, thanks."

"Yeah," said Derek. As reality kicked back in, his need for a cold shower suddenly disappeared. "I'd...better get dressed again. In..._my_ things."

"I'd hope so," said Nova while zipping up her Medical dress. "I'd hate to see you raiding my locker..."

I'll never live this one down, thought Derek. "Yeah. And don't forget your socks this time."

"Oh, I won't..." said Nova.

* * *

Later on, in Sickbay, Ensign Dale Packard, who had been on the bridge earlier this shift, was lying on an operating table; his body was horribly mangled. He had gone to his combat station in the third gun turret and was the only man pulled out of that mess alive.

"Now, let's begin the internal cut right here with the laser knife," said Doctor Sane.

"Stop it," he moaned from inside the oxygen mask he wore. "Stop it. I can _feel _that, you Goddamned butchers! Why'd you have to cut me open when I was awake?"

"We didn't know you were awake, Ensign," said Natalie Fisher, one of the two nurses assisting Dr. Sane.

"Doctor, he needs more anesthesia," said Nova Wildstar, the other nurse. Because the other doctors were busy with other patients, she was also acting as the anesthesiologist for this operation as well as Sane's head nurse.

"We can't risk it," said Sane. "His heart rate's all over the place."

"But, Doctor, we can't operate on him while he's _conscious_."

"I'm gonna _kill_ you people if you don't put me out," growled Packard.

"Nova, twenty more on the feeder...That's all we can give him..."

"Right," said Nova as she turned to the rebreather unit. As she began to work, Packard's bloody hand clutched her gloved wrist. She tried to shake him off, but he was too strong. With his other hand, he slapped her stomach, leaving a bloody handprint on her dress. His hands went limp a moment later as the gas took hold. Sane and Wildstar then pushed him back into position and added another restraining strap, after readjusting the drapes around his stomach, where they were trying to repair his digestive system.

"Easier to work on them when they're not kicking," said Fisher.

"Or grabbing at you," added Wildstar. "Doctor, the oxygen/gas mix is stable now. His pulse rate is slowing and steadying."

"Good move, Nova," said Sane. "I wonder what Doctor Bradford's doing?"

"I saw her with another patient from the auxiliary turret," said Nova.

"Guy's mangled worse than this one," said Natalie. "Probably ain't gonna make it."

"I'm not so sure he'll make it, either," mumbled Sane. "There goes the laser...getting the last few muscles and his peritoneum open..."

"Good thing he isn't twitching now, or we'd have his innards all over the place," said Fisher.

"Ready with the retractor," said Nova.

"Lock her in. I can see right where that splinter went in now."

"Me too," said Nova. "Good thing it didn't go deeper. Getting hunks of gun turrets driven into your stomach sure isn't good for anyone's health."

"What happened to Nishiyama? Wasn't his buddy in that turret?" asked Fisher.

"Already bagged and boxed," said Sane. "Poor guy didn't even make triage. Got the splinter. Nova...Natalie, both of you get all those vessels clamped. If a clamp isn't tight, we'll lose this guy when I begin working on that small intestine."

"Right," said Nova as Fisher handed her a few sets of scissor-like clamps that were quickly locked up inside Packard's body. "Do you think he's stable enough to fix that right leg, Doctor?"

"No...we'll just take it off. I can fix him up for a bionic replacement after he stabilizes," said Sane.

* * *

"So many shorts in here...I don't know how we're gonna get to all of them today," said Royster as he worked with his head stuck up inside a wiring conduit somewhere in the _Argo's_ bridge tower.

"Skipper said we needed the radar fixed," growled Parmon. "If yew'd quit whinin', we'd get the damn thing fixed."

"Parmon, why are you picking on him?" demanded Diane Henson.

"Shove it, girlie," said Parmon. "You ain't pullin' your weight either. What kind of engineer _are_ you?"

"A damn sight better than you, Randy," she snapped.

"Watch that, damnit, I outrank you, Henson!"

"Royster, never work with your ex if you can help it," growled Henson. "This officer's the biggest creep this side of the Great Magellenic Cloud."

"If you don't quit arguing, you'll both be on report," warned Royster. His voice echoed queerly since he was so far up the conduit. "Now, you get me that hydrospanner right now, Parmon."

"Whatever, sir," said Parmon as he handed the instrument up the tube. "Henson, get that cable up off the deck."

"Yessir," said Henson sarcastically. The cable left a stream of grease all over her snug white and orange uniform, but she didn't give a damn about looking good right now. "Here's the cable."

"Thanks. Now why ya refusin' to have lunch with me?" asked Parmon.

"I told you, Randy. PRP violation. I can't date someone from my own Group, for cryin' out loud!"

"Everyone knows it's just because ya still wanna get into Captain Wildstar's pants, ain't it?"

"Parmon, _you're on something!_ I'm not into dating married men. Besides, he and I broke up years ago. Like you and I did. And my one chance at changing that situation went over like a lead balloon."

"If you two don't stop it, there's that report, " warned Royster.

"Sorry, sir," said Parmon. "Henson, hand me that other cable."

"Yessir," she replied, in a voice filled with loathing. Henson didn't like Nova Wildstar very much, since Nova had taken Captain Wildstar away from her forever (Diane was, of course, conveniently forgetting that she had broken it off with Derek years ago long before Nova had ever been on the scene)...but she positively detested Randy Parmon, her more recent ex. At some point, she knew, she'd make certain that she had her revenge upon Parmon.

* * *

II. FURTHER PLANS...

Planet Earth

The Megalopolis

Earth Defense Headquarters: Chambers of the Earth Defense Council

Monday, January 18, 2202

1000 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"First of all, before we call this meeting to order," said Commanding General Charles Singleton, "I'd just like to let everyone know that I'm again fully fit for duty. Luckily, the knife wounds I received weren't all that deep. I'd like to thank all of you for your concern and phone calls and hospital visits."

"You're welcome, sir," said Stone, speaking for the rest of the Council.

"Now, shall we open?" said Singleton. "The time is now 1002 Hours, and let's return to the discussion of the Josiahite Cult. As all of you are no doubt aware, there were further developments in this matter over the weekend."

"Such as?" asked Weller, the Chief of Staff.

"Commander, my friends in Parliament have been wondering exactly what we're doing about these terrorist attacks upon Earth," said Lt. General Weiner, the attaché to the Senate Armed Services Committee. "They've been wondering why we have a defense force if we can't stop a few terrorists."

"It appears that the Josiahite Cult is far more wide-ranging than we thought it was," replied Franz Kolher of Intelligence. "According to our estimates, we think there are at least twelve cells to this cult, and we believe that it has penetrated parts of the Government and parts of the Earth Defense Forces."

"Why would a cult like that have followers in our Defense Forces?" asked Weiner.

"Many people have thought we should have never accepted help from aliens...not even from Queen Starsha of Iscandar or Trelaina of Telezart," said Kohler. "This cult apparently believes that all contacts with aliens are evil, and they believe that we should have lived or died on our own two feet, without accepting aid from anyone."

"They conveniently forget, of course, that had we never accepted aid from Starsha, the human race would be, for the most part, dead, with the few survivors left speaking Gamilon and enslaved to the Gamilons; if they had even allowed that," said Singleton.

"Commander, those sentiments, I am aware, make no sense," said Kohler. "But there have always been those who feel that we should have been the masters of our own destiny. And some, like these cultists, feel that the Federal Earth Government itself is an abomination. This cult's beliefs also include a strong racist element; in their thinking, only "Christian Caucasians" who subscribe to their peculiar beliefs are fully human. All other racial and ethnic groups and followers of other religious beliefs are downgraded to a second-class status. Even more orthodox Christians are considered heretics by them."

"Of course, we now know they're working with the Rikashans and the R'Khells," sniffed Stone. "So much for their "racial purity" and "anti-alien" angle."

"They somehow justify their contacts with our enemies by believing they are angels sent by the true Lord, who, in their thinking, is the same Being as the Dark Lord that Aliscea of Pellias recently warned us of," said Kohler. "The Josiahites' beliefs seem little different from those of the Rikashans, now, it would seem."

"A fifth column for our enemies," said Singleton. "I was afraid of that. Stone, have you found out where the enemy space submarines are coming from?"

"Not yet, sir," said Stone. "Sir...we need a more effective anti-submarine defense. Those patrol boats just don't cut it."

"And, Stone, such a defense is almost ready; provided we can, of course, figure out how to penetrate the warp shielding the R'Khells use for those subs and find the things with some type of subspace sonar," said Singleton.

"We may be close to solving that problem," said Brian Paulson, the Minister of Science. "We began working on a subspace sonar shortly after the Argo encountered Cometine space submarines last fall. When the development work is completed, we hope to have a type of sonar which can ferret out either the Cometine type of space submarines we already knew about, or the more deadly and effective R'Khell variant of the concept."

"And, we stand ready to put the solution into production when it is ready...hopefully, placing it, first, aboard a new patrol ship platform," said General Hidalgo Camacho of Logistics. "Gentlemen, in your briefing packets is the plan for the new type of gun boat we will use to solve the anti-submarine warfare problem, as well as the problem of providing a better type of close-escort ship. Now, let me change the view to the screen so you can see the first example of the new design that we have worked up here in BuShips. Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to unveil to you the _Valkyrie _class space gunboat."

The Council took a look at the detailed graphic that appeared on the screen; it was duplicated on the second page of the report.

"Quite a compact design," said Stone. "It certainly looks well-armed for its size and mass."

Hidalgo said, "We've developed a new type of depth charge that's launched from the aft counter-attack missile launchers known as the Type II Anti-Space Sub Rocket. "

"How would these new anti-space sub rockets work?" asked Weller.

"Basically, it's a small type of missile fired in groups of three out of each of the tubes," said Camacho, switched to a computerized graphic on the large screen for a moment. "Once an enemy space sub, similar to the Cometine or R'Khell type, is detected, the ship is turned in that general direction, and a burst of three rockets is fired from each tube, with a pattern spreading towards the enemy sub we wish to destroy. Hopefully, the six-way burst would neutralize or destroy the enemy spacecraft."

"Sounds logical," said Weller.

"Hopefully, once they come on-line, we'll never have a disaster of the sort we had with the _Westhampton Beach_ again."

"How many examples have been built?" asked Weller.

"Just one so far, the _Valkyrie_ herself," said Camacho. "She is due to begin trials next week."

"And who'll be commanding the ship?" asked Weller.

"We've decided to offer the command of this ship to a Lieutenant Denise Carroway, who has had quite a bit of flight experience and served honorably at the Battle of Denver last year." said Singleton. "I believe that, having been in combat recently, and having two commendations from her last two commanders, Carroway would be well-qualified to tell us how this particular class of ship would handle."

"Sir...we're putting a _woman_ in command of one of our newest spacecraft?" said an aghast Weller. "Sir...I don't think women have the proper psychological profile to command space ships! I mean, sir...those hormonal cycles...and what if a woman should go down with a ship she's commanding? What would the effect be upon morale here on Earth?"

"That's right, sir," said Piper Sandberg of the Xeno-Cultural Bureau. "Sir...this plan sounds like lunacy!"

"Parliament would vote against it; I'm _sure_ of it!" snapped Weiner, banging a fist against the table for emphasis.

Guys, both of you had better shut up, thought General Staci Willis in a very irritable tone inside her own head. "Gentlemen, this is getting _nowhere_," she said. "Regardless of your feelings about women in command, the Commander has already made the decision, and you'd better abide by it. Besides, we've already had one woman commanding a ship in combat; Ember Tyson. She did a damn great job a few days back around Neptune."

thought General Staci Willis in a very irritable tone inside her own head. "Gentlemen, this is getting ," she said. "Regardless of your feelings about women in command, the Commander has already made the decision, and you'd better abide by it. Besides, we've already had one woman commanding a ship in combat; Ember Tyson. She did a damn great job a few days back around Neptune." 

"Just because you're wearing a skirt, Willis? Is _that_ why?" demanded Weiner.

"Sir, with all respect, you'd better damn well shut up," snapped Willis as she adjusted her glasses.

"Weiner, you had better stop this now," said Singleton in a low voice. "I'll have you know that in the event of a deeper emergency, I've already set aside for my own purposes the names of at least five other female officers I feel are competent to assume command of space warships. That is, should the need arise and should we need to spread talent throughout the Fleet from other vessels in the event of a severe personnel shortage. And one of them, it may surprise you to know, Weller, is a Staff Officer with a lot of on-the-job training."

"Friends of yours?" asked Weller in a snide voice. "Former secretaries or something?"

"Two of these officers have served in Administrative posts in the past," said Singleton. "But, for now, the identities of those officers are hardly relevant to our discussion. I am offering this ship to Carroway later today; and her orders have already been cut...if she accepts her assignment, that is. She would assume command on Friday if she accepts my offer to volunteer for command of this new vessel."

"Tell us, Commander, what about the _Potemkin_?" asked Weiner. "Have we found her yet?"

"The _Argo_ engaged her at around 0330 Hours on Saturday," said Singleton. "It seems she was acting in conjunction with several R'Khell subs. During the battle, it was reported that Yvona Josiah was briefly seen. It seems the enemy somehow gave her the power to assume a youthful appearance of some type. It was also reported she was wearing some of Lieutenant Nova Wildstar's clothing."

"Which explains the results we found while investigating the Wildstar residence, sir," said Kohler. "Old examples, of course, of Captain Wildstar's and Lieutenant Wildstar's fingerprints were found all over the house and grounds. Examples of Yvona Josiah's fingerprints were also discovered on the grounds, and in the Wildstars' bedroom, as well as all over the knife used to assault Captain Josiah at his residence a few days ago. We thought that the operative who impersonated Nova Wildstar was just another member of the Josiah cult, but it appears that the woman who assaulted you, sir, may have been Josiah herself."

"That would seem to explain a great many things," said Singleton. "It appears this is all part of a plan being set into motion by the Being that the Star Force saw briefly at Pellias before its destruction. I believe that this Being might well be behind both the Rikashan attacks and the recent, more aggressive actions of the Josiahites. It is possible this Being may be controlling Yvona Josiah and her cult in some fashion."

"What happened to the _Potemkin_?" asked Weller. "Surely she didn't survive an engagement with the _Argo_?"

"We don't quite know what happened," said Singleton. "This morning, Captain Wildstar reported that the _Potemkin _was badly damaged and warped away after ramming the _Argo. _The_ Argo_ is now under continuing repair as she continues her journey to Iscandar to, hopefully, consult with Starsha and receive some more answers about this Being known as Ekogaru before the enemy's fortress pierces the Great Magellenic Cloud near the Sanzar System in a few weeks. Wildstar hopes that they will give Aliscea of Pellias enough intelligence to stop this Being soon, thus leaving us to deal only with the upcoming Rikashan threat."

"What type of threat, sir?" asked Weiner.

"Based upon Captain Wildstar's conversations with Aliscea of Pellias, it is felt that the enemy is planning to thrust into our solar system in a few months with a major invasion fleet, similar to the sort the Comet Empire used to attack us at Saturn-Titan. We'll need a major fleet buildup to meet a threat of this nature, ladies and gentlemen," said Singleton. "We'll need a fleet much bigger than the reconstruction plan now being considered."

"Hmmm," said Weller. "That'll need Presidential approval. Where is the Star Force now, sir?"

"About thirty-one thousand lightyears away from Earth, approaching the Octopus Star Group on her way to the Great Magellenic Cloud," said Singleton.

"Pending more intelligence from the Star Force, let's vote upon a Fleet buildup program to see if we can rebuild the Fleet back up to the levels it was at last fall," said Weller. "I would also like to propose that we re-instate stringent rationing, because we'll need the resources necessary to build all those ships."

"We'll need officers and enlisted, too," said General Willis. "I think we can fill up the gaps in our structure by calling up those men and women who may have been EDF or UNSDF members now in the inactive reserves. Some of these people would be older, granted, but we could use the experience right now."

Singleton nodded. "Good ideas. Anything else?"

"Let's find that rogue ship," said Stone. "If we have to, sir, perhaps we should prepare a special Task Force to aid the Star Force in finding that ship and bringing her down if needed."

"We have three motions, then," said Singleton. "Anything else?"

No one had anything else to say. "I second these motions; on the condition we'll have to submit these proposals to Parliament for approval," said Camacho.

"Very well. Shall we vote?"

The motions were read off and passed; with Weiner's vote being the only dissent.

"Motions approved," said Singleton. "Weiner, in spite of your opposition, it will be _your_ job to submit our decisions to Parliament and get them passed. Can I trust you with that?"

"Sir, I will be up before the Senate Armed Services Committee later today," said Weiner. "I will emphasize it's important to get these proposals into and out of committee and up before the full Parliament by the end of the week. Then, after everything is passed, I hope we can get the President to sign off on these changes a few days later."

"Good, Weiner," said Singleton. "I knew we could count on you. Don't let these motions get stalled in Committee."

"I won't...sir," said Weiner with a smile.

* * *

That evening, Lieutenant Denise Carroway arrived back home at her BOQ apartment from her evening jog, wearing sneakers and her grey EDF sweats. _What's this?_ she thought, looking at her phone. _Some message from Jeff? I told him; I'll meet him tonight at 2000 Hours. These civilians never understand military time, no matter how much you tell them...jeez._

Carroway irritably punched the "play" button on her phone. She stood stretching as she listened to some anonymous female voice saying, "Lieutenant Carroway, it has been ordered that you report to Commanding General Singleton's office at nineteen hundred hours tonight for an urgent meeting. It has been arranged for you to be absent from your duty shift at oh-four hundred tomorrow morning to facilitate this meeting. You may consider yourself on liberty until this time tomorrow evening. Please be prompt for your meeting, and report in proper uniform."

Denise turned off the player and looked around her apartment in surprise. "Nineteen hundred...that's an hour and a half away. Better call Jeff and tell him I have to cancel out for tonight..."

Carroway pulled off her sneakers and began to dial Jeff Sohn, her civilian engineer boyfriend. The lights in her apartment gleamed in her light blue eyes as she made the phone call. Finally, she got through.

"Yes, who is this?" asked Jeff. "And why are we voice only?"

"Jeff, it's Denise. I'm getting changed, and, sorry, I can't make it tonight."

"Why not? Damnit, what's the excuse now?"

"I just got a call from the Commanding General. I have to report to his office tonight at nineteen hundred...that's seven o'clock for people like you."

"Can't you change the appointment?"

"Jeff, you don't just ask the Commanding General of the Earth Defense Forces to reschedule an appointment when you've been ordered to show up at his office. That doesn't work in this Fleet, my friend. We'll have to reschedule for tomorrow afternoon after you get off work."

"Denise...I'm not sure I believe you. This is sure sudden."

"Jeff, regardless of whether you believe me or not, I _have to be there_. I've got to go now. I'll see you tomorrow at sixteen hundred at the Starlight Café, okay? _Bye_."

And, with that, Carroway hung up.

I'm sorry, but you can't ruin my career, Jeff, thought Denise as she ran towards the shower. _And I wonder what kind of trouble I'm in? The Commander doesn't just call you up and order you to report for a casual chat..._

thought Denise as she ran towards the shower. 

"Sir," said Carroway as she stood in Singleton's office a while later in her blue EDF uniform and white peacoat, "Lieutenant Denise Carroway, reporting as ordered."

Singleton returned her salute with a small smile and then said, "Carroway, at ease. You're probably wondering why you were summoned here, aren't you?"

"Yessir...I am."

"I've been considering your record lately, Carroway. Grant and I aren't sure your talents are being put to good use in your squadron. You've had a good record, and you've earned a battle star thanks to what you've done at the Battle of Denver in December when you were training under Wildstar's command. What did you think of the man, then?"

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"Wildstar was a good instructor, a tough squadron leader, and a great hero, but he's something of a...punk...sir. Not quite my type, to be honest. I like sticking to the book...I only think you need to throw it away on occasion."

"And when might that be?"

"In battle, if the situation called for it, sir. I don't like violating regs all the time, sir. Maybe you could say I'm a middle of the road type, sir."

"With your own streak?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Have you ever wanted to serve aboard a carrier or gunboat?"

"Perhaps, sir. I wouldn't mind if the opportunity presented itself. However, you'd never get me near the current excuse for a gun boat that has been deployed, sir."

"Do you mean the 2200 model?"

Carroway nodded.

"Good. I think they're a poor excuse for a patrol boat, too." Singleton dimmed the lights in the room and turned on his vidscreen, bringing up a graphic of the _Valkyrie_.

"What's that, sir?"

"Our newest class of gun boat, Carroway."

"Looks a little old in some ways...new in others. Like the weapons array on her."

"The first one just left the construction yards, and she needs a skipper. The Captain of a ship of this class has to know how to fly, since he or she would take control of the ship when she goes into torpedo and bombing runs against enemy targets or ships. A skipper of a ship of this class would serve with a crew of ten; two more officers, and eight enlisted. The quarters would be cramped, a bit Spartan, but livable. We're planning four-month patrols for ships of this class...with frequent underway replenishment as needed. The class ship, the _Valkyrie_, as I said, is set to begin trials on Friday. You would need to do some studying, were you to be reassigned to a ship of this type."

"Me? Reassigned to this?"

"Yes...as her skipper. I'm offering you a command, Carroway. Your very first. Should you desire to accept this offer, please be aware that I'm recruiting only volunteers. Whether you wish to accept or decline this command is up to you, Lieutenant. If you accept, you'd be on liberty for a day and would report to the dockyard on Wednesday to begin looking over your new command. If you decline, nothing more need be said about this meeting."

"How much time do I have to consider your offer, sir?"

"As much time as you'd need...within reason. I'd need your answer within twenty-four hours."

"Sir...meaning no disrespect...I can give you my answer now."

"Which is?"

"Sir, I respectfully volunteer for this assignment. Would you give me a good crew?" she said with a wide smile going across her face. She felt like doing a cartwheel, but knew it would be improper to do so in front of the Commander!

Singleton chuckled. "All of your crew will be volunteers, Carroway. Welcome to the joys of Command," said Singleton as he reached over his desk to shake her hand. "Your orders will be cut and waiting for you at Dock #445 on Wednesday the 20th at 0900 Hours. You're on liberty until then, Lieutenant. I'll clear everything with Grant. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir," said a very surprised Carroway. _I don't believe this_, she thought. _This is the career boost I've been praying for! Is this really happening? Oh, don't let this be a dream!_

"Godspeed. I wish you well, Lieutenant...or is that Captain?"

Carroway smiled again. She knew now it was no dream. She left Singleton's office floating on air.

* * *

III. FURTHER PLANS...

Planet Earth

The Great Megalopolis

Chambers of The Senate Armed Services Committee

Tuesday, January 19, 2202

1214 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"Entered into Discussion Agenda," said Senator Weishaupt, Chairman of the Armed Services Committee, "...all of the Liaison's proposals passed by the Earth Defense Council on Monday."

"I tell you guys, I will start another filibuster if we can't decide on how many ships they're building. It'll screw the budget," said Senator Roland. "We have to keep that budget balanced."

"And why?" said Senator Kiiyama.

"Damnit, you know we're up for reelection in November," snapped Roland. "If we raise taxes again, the voters will have our heads."

Even General Weiner, the military attaché' to this Committee, sat tapping his fingers irritably against the polished table as the twelve fat Senators argued in the smoke-filled meeting room. _If we don't get this argument resolved by November, maybe we can finish the discussion in a Rikashan prison camp as we're waiting to get shot_, he thought.

"I tell you, the party leadership is getting miffed at you, Roland," said another Senator, named MacBride. "Some guys are wondering if Saturn-Titan and Gideon's appointment were your fault, Jimmy."

"You get stuffed!" yelled Roland. "Anyway, it's almost time for the races. Don't you guys have bets running on some of these nags?" he asked as he flicked on the horse races.

"Yeah, we'll get back to this in the afternoon..." said Weishaupt. "Meeting adjourned until 2 o'clock. It can wait. I don't see any Rikashan fleets descending upon Earth today, you know."

TO BE CONTINUED WITH ACT FIVE-"Significant Conversations"

* * *

**_THERE ARE NOW 126 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM_**

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS---****THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE**

**Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

**ACT FIVE--SIGNIFICANT CONVERSATIONS**

* * *

**I. NOT A NICE LUNCH**

**Planet Earth**

**New York**** Megalopolis**

**Tuesday, January 19, 2202**

**1248 Hours Spacetime**

* * *

"A toast…to myself," murmured Lieutenant Denise Carroway to herself with a smile. "And my success in being appointed as the Captain of the new _Valkyrie_."

Denise smiled, and drank her cup of coffee…alone. A second cup sat across the table from her, untouched. _Jeff's late again_, thought Carroway in a mood that suddenly turned irritable. She stirred her coffee again, and sat looking around the Starlight Café, one of the nicer places in the Megalopolis. It was a popular hangout for young couples, and even with the Star Force in space, the paparazzi kept the place staked out through contacts because it was known to be one of the Wildstars' favorite lunch spots.

However, Carroway was getting a few looks of her own. Not many people had seen a woman in both a navy blue peacoat and white ascot before; these were the traditional accoutrements of an EDF Captain.

"Congratulations, Captain!" someone called out. "We heard the story on the news this morning."

"Thank you!" said Carroway, who raised her cup of coffee to the anonymous male in salute. "At least someone is celebrating!"

Finally, after a long wait, her boyfriend Jeff Sohn arrived, wearing a white turtleneck, dark pants, and Cuban-style boots.

"Nice outfit," he said to Denise. "Got a skirt on?"

"Bellbottoms," snapped Denise. "Standard EDF uniform slacks. You know."

"Aren't those guys' pants? Don't you women wear those tight things?"

"I don't; not now," said Carroway. "Do you think I'd be respected on my bridge wearing one of those leotards? Maybe some females could get away with it, but I can't see myself commanding a ship of this Fleet in a bloody Danskin. How would my crew _respect_ me in the getup they make us wear? It's just my personal choice. Rank hath its privileges."

"Ship of the Fleet…don't you only have a patrol boat?"

"Jeff, it's a ship that I happen to be very happy about," snapped Denise. "I have a crew, and I'm the Captain, even though I only have the rank of Lieutenant."

"That's a good one…how'd you manage that?"

"I was given this command by the Commanding General," said Carroway hotly. "Anyone commanding a ship, no matter what their actual rank, is considered the Captain, Skipper, or Old Man of their vessel."

"I don't see you as being either old or a man," teased Jeff. "Where's your bushy beard?"

"Jeff, please…you're acting like a _child_," snapped Denise. "This is serious. Show me some respect, or I'll eat lunch and celebrate by myself."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin. "You know, you do look cute in that coat."

"I'm not supposed to look _cute_, I'm supposed to look _authoritative_," said Denise. "Now, what do you want for lunch? If you can bear to sit with me and act like an adult, that is."

"Uhh," said Jeff as he scanned the menu. "French dip beef sandwich and fries. What about you?"

"Teriyaki salmon and rice, my usual…" she said. "And more coffee for both of us." The waitress came a moment later and took their orders. Carroway made sure she asked for chopsticks to go with her Japanese lunch.

Jeff looked around conspiratorially. "I've got something to show you, Denise. Would you like to see it?"

"What is it?" joked Denise. "A can with a furry spring-loaded _snake_ in it? Please," she said with a smile. "I don't know why you guys think it's funny to scare your significant others like that."

"No, it's something better," said Jeff. "Even though with the way you're sounding today, it might just scare you."

"Okay, let's see it," sighed Denise.

"Thought this would give us something else to celebrate today," said Jeff. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and left it on the table. "Open it."

Denise held it up to her ear. "It's not ticking, so it's not a miniature bomb. I hear nothing alive in there, so it's not some small animal, like a mouse."

Carroway shut her eyes and opened the box. A welter of emotions ran across her face as she looked at what was inside; a small, but exquisite, diamond ring.

Their lunch came a moment later. Jeff just watched her, smiling softly. "Does this mean…what I think it means?" asked Carroway.

Jeff nodded. He asked, "Denise…would you marry me?"

Denise looked at the ring. _I have a career_, she thought. _Being married and having an EDF career are not mutually exclusive. Famous people seem to get away with it. But, Jeff's not Fleet. I don't know if he'd understand…I'll be away a lot…there'll be separations…and I'm really devoted to my job…and I'm not quite ready to commit to anyone, yet, let alone Jeff._

"Jeff…I…I…" she said, with her eyes welling up a little. "I'm not sure…"

"You're not sure?"

"I'm not," she said. She bit her lip and said. "We ship out on Friday. If I take this…well…it looks like we might be getting involved in a war soon," she said, with her voice dropping down to a whisper. "Didn't you hear about the attacks on Earth shipping? Didn't you hear about Chicago being wave-gunned?"

"You're not saying no…?"

"I'll say yes, to your ring; you mean well," sighed Denise as Jeff then put the ring on her finger. "But, please understand…I can't commit to a wedding date…not yet, Jeff. Also, if we go through with this…"

"If?"

"Jeff, things…well…things could change…you'll have to understand…you'll be sharing me with a spouse named _Valkyrie_. I'm very happy, you see, that my potential is being used. We will have to remember that I have a career, Jeff. Please remember that when I come home, when we do get married, I won't be retiring to wear an apron and go barefoot and pregnant for you at the drop of a hat. I still have four years left on my hitch, anyway. Do you understand that?"

"Yes…I do," he said as he ate. "But please, Denise…remember my feelings?"

"I do, silly. Remember, I have a job, and so do you."

"My job's on Earth. Yours could be, too."

Denise glared at Jeff. "Jeff, you and I will spend all of our time together at your place during leave. I'll gladly cook and 'keep house' when I'm home from work, if your seeing me with a vacuum cleaner and a frilly white apron turns you on. But the rest of the time, you do your job; I'll do mine. I'll be in the solar system, so I can call you every damn week if you like."

"But, Denise…I want it _different_!" he yelled, banging his fist on the table to punctuate his point. Several patrons looked over at them; some even glared at Jeff. With his longish, ponytailed hair, he looked a little deranged. "After this tour…why can't you take a desk job?"

"Jeff, if you want things to be like that, maybe you'd better find someone _else_ to share your life with." Denise then paused and took her ring off and carefully put it back in the box before a shocked Jeff Sohn's eyes. "One of the shortest engagements in history…about…two minutes, I think. I'm sorry, Jeff. I can't go through with this. Not the way you are now. Maybe things can be different if you grow up while I'm away…we can put the relationship on hold until after I'm back." She tossed several credits on the table to cover her bill and the tip. "You pay the bill, Jeff, give the waitress the rest. I'm very sorry, but I have to leave now. I'll try to write you a letter soon. I'll keep in touch."

"Not even a kiss for your Jeffster?" murmured Jeff.

Denise shook her head. "No, Jeff. And I'm sorry. And you can return your data capsule of _Baby's Day Out 2200_ to the video store, too. I don't want to come over to your place to watch it with you. It sounds like a juvenile movie, anyway."

"Then it's over, isn't it?" he said.

"No. I said it's _on hold_," replied Denise. "I need time to _think_. I'll go buy a hoagie at a convenience store. You can have both of our lunches. Good afternoon. "

At that, Denise got up, pushed in her chair, and left Jeff and his engagement ring behind.

_He's a child_, thought Denise. _That's all there is to it; he's a child! Him and his saying my t-shirts and jeans are juvenile… What does he want…someone who wears a miniskirt all the time, 24-7? _

* * *

"Baron Gernitz, we have just arrived in the Nereid System. Planet Rotella is fifty thousand _gerad_ off the fleet's port bow."

"Excellent, Captain Palsand" said Gernitz. "Days upon days of wasted travel. Insignificant battles with rebels. What, is the whole Comet Empire going crazy? No glory for us, even though we bring over three hundred ships as we resupplied our fleet at our Cometine bases on the way back here. At least the base network still operates. I could have had the objective Zordar built those bases for, if only the Viceroy hadn't cheated me."

"Yes…we could have had Earth."

"Earth, Desslok's head, and scrap metal and slaves from the _Argo_ to present before the Grand Emperor's Viceroy back in Andromeda," said the Cometine commander in a morose voice. "Instead, we were ordered to break off the battle in the early stages, in the midst of giving Earth a new set of trials and tribulations. And, we had to come here…to deal with a foolish rebellion. So ended the second Cometine attempt to take Earth and our effort to avenge Prince Zordar…a stillborn effort. We couldn't even pay respects to our great hero and kinsman Zordar in Earth orbit where he died."

"A grand tragedy, sir," said Palsand.

"Yes. A tragedy," hissed Gernitz.

An anonymous officer knelt before Gernitz. "Lord, a communication from the Forty-Seventh Black Fox Nebula Patrol Fleet flagship _Pleades_. It seems to be approaching for a rendezvous."

"Who's sending the communication?" demanded Gernitz.

"Major-General Deda, sir."

"Deda? Ahhh…we were once antagonists when Zordar invaded the Black Nebula years ago. After we convinced the Black Nebulans to sign a treaty of friendship and concordance with the Empire, they have been a loyal bunch, for the most part. Deda helped me out back at Petronia, remember, Palsand? Merciless bunch of cyborgs, his people. We could have used them when we attacked Earth. Since the Black Nebula Galactic Group is considered a separate House, albeit a subject one, they could have stayed behind when I was summoned back. Put Deda on, Major."

"Yessir," said another officer.

A bald, blue face with weird blue-on-blue eyes above a white uniform appeared on the main screen of Gernitz's Black Dreadnought. A deep, rough voice said, "It's been a long while, Baron. How goes your leadership of House Gatlantis, the people who convinced us to sign a non-aggression pact between our glorious Empires?"

"It goes well. It could be better, Deda. How goes it with you? What news have you heard lately from Dezarium?'

"None. That leaves me wondering, Gernitz. They have been out of touch for days upon days. Last word said something about a gravitational disturbance rolling through both galactic disks of the Black Nebula; both the Black One and the Galaxy of Light. I was to escort a mining expedition some weeks ago, but we were recalled at the last minute."

"Mining expedition? That sounds like poor duty for you, Deda."

"Our scout ships in the Magellenic Cloud had just discovered two planets in a star system near the edge of the Great Magellenic Cloud. The scout squadron had left, but they told us we could exploit those planets for rare radioactive resources for our energy transmission units. Weird planets, too. Binary planetary group; one orbiting around the other. No one there worth fighting; com-scan said there was a dead military civilization on the bigger world, or its ruins, anyhow, and a few refugees hiding out on the smaller world. We were about to do Baron Meldazz's bidding to take those resources when we received a blip of a communication from him to head back to the Black Nebula. Then, there was silence from the Black Nebula. No answer to any of our hails. Then, the Viceroy called us and ordered us to come here. She refused to tell us what had become of the Black Nebula, or of Dezarium. She said we were to consider our fleet under your provisional command until communications were restored with Lord Skaldart. Did you hear anything?"

"No," said Gernitz thoughtfully. "We have been monitoring the communications of a minor rebel whose race had joined forces with Zordar and then broke the alliance by deciding to become a turncoat and aid Earth."

"Who is this rebel? Have I heard of him?"

"He is named Desslok of Gamilon, Deda. A grand bounty is on his head throughout the whole Empire."

"Ahh…the Gamilon _Empire_," said Deda with contempt. He laughed as if he knew some secret that Gernitz was unaware of. "You'd love to know what became of them, I'm sure. Or, rather, their _homeworld?_" Deda laughed again. "I'll tell you some other time. How goes it around Rotella?"

"I have been told the rebels just wiped out a cruiser squadron. I could put my Siege Cannon to good use on the Rotellan Capital today."

"Did the Viceroy give your permission from the Emperor?" asked Deda.

"No, I will therefore exterminate a few million people today _anyway_," said Gernitz. Both warriors laughed across their comlink.

"You were always good at extermination, Gernitz," said Deda. "Why not bring up an antimatter missile squadron and terminate the planet? Or why not ask for a Gorba Squadron? We'd be happy to kill for you."

"We need the resources the planet provides," said Gernitz. "You will support the rear of my fleet, Deda. Guard it against enemy forces; the rebels got some of our ships. The very ships Zordar left there for _their_ protection."

"I understand, Gernitz. I would love to learn, though, what became of our people."

"I am sure you will learn. In due time. Remember, you serve _us_."

"Yes," said Deda as dark thoughts ran through his brain. His circuits burned with a bit of rage as he remembered that, as free as they seemed to be, the Black Nebula Empire was still a confederate…and protectorate…of the Grand Cometine Empire.

* * *

**II. A BULL SESSION**

**Space Battleship _Argo_**

**Aft Observation Deck**

**Wednesday, January 20, 2202**

**0427 Hours Spacetime**

* * *

Commander Mark Venture stood on the _Argo's_ Aft Observation deck at this ungodly hour with his elbows on the simulated wood railing that ran around the inside of the large bubble. He stood there with his chin propped on his hands, watching the stars and the distant Milky Way Galaxy far aft of the _Argo._ The mighty ship was now 35,000 lightyears out from Earth, and was now closer than ever before to the Octopus Star Group and the nebulae that surrounded it.

_By the end of the week,_ thought Mark, _we should be able to get a scan with enough resolution to tell us what's going on around the Octopus Group…and to tell us if we can warp around the black cloud of gas, pass through the channel we used before, or have to explore the whole mess all over again. All this with enemies out there, too; we don't know if we finished off the **Potemkin** or not, and we don't know if the Rikashans are after us. Seems familiar, doesn't it? Our journey to Iscandar two years ago…_

Behind Venture, the automatic hatch whirred open. He stood to attention when he recognized Wildstar's reflection in the techtite done of the observation deck.

"Hanging out, huh?" said Derek in a smart-alecky voice that didn't match his hangdog expression; in his peacoat, with his hands in his pockets and (uncharacteristically) his Captain's cap on his head, Derek looked about ten years older than his true age.

"Yeah," said Venture with a smirk. "What's it to you, Derek?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on the bridge? If you break regs, I'll have to have you before me tomorrow morning for Mast like I did with Hartcliffe a day after Paul and Aliscea's wedding. And the guy's still serving his extra duty shifts."

"Oh, yeah?" said Venture. "You'll bust me because I'm up here relaxing. _Really_."

"I might…unless you wanna _fight_ about it," said Derek. The polished black brim of his hat was down, so Mark couldn't see the twinkle in his eyes.

"All right, let's go…whenever you're game, that is," said Venture. "When are you gonna be man enough to try slugging me again?"

Mark looked at Wildstar. The Captain stood there, as cool as a cucumber, fishing around for something in his pocket.

Venture looked mystified…until he saw the object was a soda can. Derek pushed up his hat and grinned.

"I know you're not on duty, Mark. I was just kidding around."

Venture laughed. "Hey, Derek, you do look like a Captain with that hat on your head."

"When I was on the bridge before, manning the watch so we could have a little break in the Officer of the Deck schedule, I just put it on while looking back at the plaque. Funny, I feel a bit closer to him tonight, Mark. I could use his advice about now."

"About what?"

"Lots of things," sighed Derek as he exhaled again. Both Derek and Mark leaned on the deck rail, not far from the empty chair which sat there.

"Okay…let me help, Wildstar. What's on your mind?"

"Where's that damn battleship?" he muttered. "We're still repairing that aft turret, even though we do have communications back. Communications that we'll lose in a day once we get out beyond 38,000 lightyears, the maximum range of our subspace communications equipment."

"Wish I knew," said Mark as he looked at his watch. "0435," murmured Venture. "The Colorado Express is late tonight."

"_Colorado Express_?" said Derek. "We don't have a damn railroad line on this ship, Mark."

"The Express runs at odd hours of the night, Wildstar, and not every night. For the past few nights, here and there, she's been making that run again."

"Who? What?" said Derek.

Venture just chuckled. A moment later, the hatch whirred open again. Light footsteps hit the deck.

Derek looked over his shoulder and turned a little pale. His suspicions were right. Nova was standing there in her gold and black uniform, stifling a yawn. "Good evening, gentlemen," she said.

"The Colorado Express has arrived," smirked Venture.

"Good, Mark…you explained it to him," said Nova with a smile. "Sorry about the occasional wandering, Derek dearest," said Nova. "Just trouble sleeping again. "

"When did you first start doing this?" asked a concerned Derek.

"Night before last," said Nova. "I was wandering around again after I crawled over you that night to take care of some things. Couldn't get back to sleep, and I didn't want to wake you up, so I got dressed and came down here. Thank God, there's Mark. Nice to have someone to talk to when you have insomnia and your husband is asleep."

"Nova, why don't you wake me up when you get like that?" asked Derek.

"Because I know you need your sleep, dear," said Nova as she affectionately patted her husband's cheek.

"The chair, milady," said Mark with a gallant gesture.

"Thanks," said Nova. "Now, let's talk. What's bothering you guys?"

"Almost two years ago, Homer freaked out when his father died before him on the view screen," said Derek. "Remember…he tried to swim home?"

"How can I forget that night?" said Nova with a blush.

At that, Mark raised an eyebrow. He asked, "Nova…were you guys up to something you never told anyone about?"

"No, silly. He…he saw me in a nightgown for the first time that night. And so did you. Remember? " said Nova as her blush deepened.

"Which one…uh…oh…_that_ nightgown?" said Mark. "Derek, wasn't that a beautiful sight?"

Derek nodded and smiled. "Yes…it was."

"Yes…that gown it…it was a bit _revealing_," said Nova with her eyes turned demurely down towards the deck as she remembered just how revealing it was. "I remember that all too well…you guys looked so _shocked_," said Nova as she remembered and began smiling a little. "Didn't you _ever_ see what a woman looked like before?"

Venture just stammered. "Uhhhmmm…uhmmm…"

"Nova, you know I did, but…I don't want to talk about it."

"Henson?" asked Venture. "At the space school?"

Derek just nodded glumly. Nova gently put a hand on his cheek and began to caress it. "Uh…I hope I looked better …the first time you ever saw me in…that little."

"Definitely," said Derek. "At least you had some things covered up. Diane, on the other hand…"

The door whizzed open, startling them. They looked around and noticed Diane Henson coming in with some papers. When she noticed who was there, her face immediately twisted into a smirk.

"Well, well, _well_," she said. "It looks like the Captain opened up a lounge up here. Can I join in?"

"_No_," said Nova flatly.

"I wasn't asking _you_," sneered Diane. "I was asking the Captain, _hon?_" added Henson in a very sarcastic voice.

"Miss Henson," said Derek. "We _were_ discussing ship's business. You don't have a security clearance to hear all of this, so could you please leave before I have to make it an official order?"

"I was listening through the hatch," said Diane. "I believe, sir, you were comparing my lingerie to the lingerie of Miss Forrester?"

"That's _Mrs_. _Wildstar_, to _you_," said Nova. "If you need to see my marriage certificate to call me by my legal name, I'll gladly go up to our cabin and _get_ it for you," she huffed.

"No, stay here," whispered Derek in Nova's ear.

"Hmh?" whispered Nova.

"If she's going to razz you, she's going to razz me, too." said Derek. "We're in this together. We're a _family_ now."

Nova just nodded. She quickly wiped away the tears welling at her eyes before Henson could see them. Then, she grabbed Derek's hands and made sure they were both facing Henson.

"Go away, Lieutenant Henson," said Nova. "With that look on your face, I'm about a second away from ordering you to get out of here. "

"Let's see you try it!" snapped Diane.

"Henson, I _do_ outrank you, as a Senior Grade Lieutenant and a Group Leader," said Nova quickly before Derek could interject anything.

"Oh, too bad, honey. We could have had a _great_ discussion about sleepwear," said Diane in a sarcastically sweet voice. "Commander Venture, sir…would you like to have some late-night _space java_ with me?" said Diane as she sidled up to Venture and affectionately brushed his cheek. "We can leave this deck to our teenage newlyweds."

"_No!_" snapped Mark. "I wouldn't go out with you if you were the only woman on this ship!"

"Henson, because you aren't showing your fellow officers any respect, you're under orders to leave this space," snapped Derek. "_Now_."

She just glared at Derek for a moment. Then, she turned to Venture. "Too bad what marriage does to some people," she snorted. "Especially when they marry the little old flat-chested girl next door type." Before Derek or Nova could react, Diane sidled over to the hatch and began to step out. "Bye, Captain!" she sang. "I hope I'm in your dreams tonight!"

"Henson," snapped Derek. "If you're not out of here in ten seconds, you're on report!"

Nova thought, _strictly_ to herself, _Diane, if you're not out of here in ten seconds and keep up those comments, I just might belt you!_

"Aye, aye, sir!" Diane blew Derek a kiss.

"Henson, you're on report," snapped Wildstar. "Get up to my cabin at 0930 tomorrow morning. _Got_ it?"

"Yessir," she said with a grin. Then she stepped backwards through the hatch with a smart salute to her chest. She was gone a moment later.

"Flat-chested," said Nova in a shaky voice. "I'll show _her_ flat-chested," she said peevishly. "Horrible smell in here. Does she practice regular feminine hygiene?"

Both Derek and Mark broke out laughing like crazy. "That's a _good_ one, Nova!" snorted Derek through loud chuckles. "You did it again! All you've been doing the past few days is cracking me up!"

"I think we have someone here for stand-up comics' night!" snorted Mark. "Nova, I thought you were so nice."

"Oh, I am. With people who don't deliberately _insult_ me, that is," said Nova. She puffed out her chest a little and looked down at it. "Uhh…guys…I never asked you this before…but, I guess…we're all close enough to discuss this…uhh…do I really look too small?"

"Nova…you look just right," said Derek. "Doesn't she, Mark?"

Venture just smiled and nodded. "You don't look half bad in that bodice, tights and boots. In fact…you…uh…you look great. You wear that uniform well, Nova."

"Thanks," she snorted with a little smile. "Least it's good for _something_," she said with a smile as she leaned back on the rail and put a leg out.

Mark added, "Guys, can I make a comment without being disrespectful? It's meant to be between us."

"Go ahead," said Derek. "Between the three of us, of course."

Mark sighed and said, "This'll sound terrible, but…didn't you two ever notice that, topside, uhh..," said Mark pointing to his chest.

"Henson sort of looks like she was blown up with an air pump?" said Nova. "Derek, I'm not sure what you ever saw in her."

"I'm not sure, either," he mused. "She's got a cute face, but…"

"An ugly soul," added Nova.

"Nova, you look waaaay better than she does," said Derek, sidling up to her and winking.

"I may look mundane compared to her, but…"

Mark smiled and said, "And, as…uh…the Captain can surely attest…you look even better in whatever kind of negligee you're in…or whatever you wore on your wedding night with Derek," said Venture with a deep blush of his own. "Hope I'm not getting too personal…Was it that one, Nova?"

"No…it…wasn't that particular negligee," said Nova. "It was too…warm…for it on the island that night. I'm sure you can guess what I mean, and…that's all I'm going to say about what I wore on my wedding night. Mark. I…oh, why am I even _telling you _this?"

"Funny things can happen during breaks," smiled Derek.

"_Stop_ calling me that, I've never liked that name they pinned on me on the way to Iscandar." muttered Nova. She looked over and saw Mark smiling. "Are you laughing at me, Amsterdam?"

"No, Boulder, I'm just smiling," said Venture. Sometimes they called themselves by the names of the birth cities as nicknames of a sort.

"You and Space Cowboy here had better stop it, or I'll bop _both_ of you," teased Nova as she shook a fist.

"Wildstar, turn your head," said Mark.

"Why?"

"I want to say something to your spouse," said Mark.

"Yes, Mark?" sang Nova.

"Just a compliment," said Venture. He whispered, in a sing-song voice, "_You look cute in a negligee_."

Nova blushed again. Then, she playfully punched Mark in the forearm.

"_Ow_!" said Mark. "That hurt!"

"Good," said Nova. "Now I've hit _both_ of you delinquents up here." she said with a giggle.

Venture looked at Wildstar with a look as if to say, _What__ the hell is she talking about?_

"Mark…don't ask," said Derek. "It was when we were near Iscandar…"

"Our first date," said Nova. "It was cute but don't ask."

"Huh?"

"He got a bit too frisky," said Nova with a smile. "Enough said."

"Funny how cycles go," mused Derek. "On our way to Iscandar again. Too bad we aren't on Iscandar, yet, Mark," said Derek with a smirk.

"Yeah…too bad we aren't around that hill beyond the 'cats'," added Mark.

"You guys are not going to waylay me there behind a gravestone and tickle me half to death like you did halfway through that month on Iscandar," said Nova.

"What's to stop us? We're way bigger than you," teased Derek.

"You know, Derek. That aikido and judo practice you've been putting me through. If anyone tries kidnapping me again, they'll regret it. _Heeeyahhh_" cried Nova as she kicked the rail hard.

Both Derek and Mark jumped. Nova giggled at their reaction behind her free hand as she stabilized her chair again on two legs while she leaned back, with her feet locked against the railing by her boot heels. "Good. I woke you up," she said. "Good thing…so far from home. How far again, Mark?"

"Thirty-five thousand lightyears as of tonight. We've been warping kind of carefully ever since that battle the other night; and Aliscea's warning."

"Aliscea," said Derek as he put his hand on Nova's shoulder. "Odd…she's like you…but weird."

"That must mean I'm normal," teased Nova. "Funny…you told me I was weird two nights ago."

"Every smart person on this ship is sorta weird," said Venture. "You, Sandor, Doctor Sane, and Royster. All smart…all weird."

"Is that an insult or a compliment?" said Nova slowly while she put down her feet and let the chair sit on all of its four tripod-style legs again. Derek and Mark took the cue and knelt down together on the deck to continue their conversation at close range, with Derek at his wife's left and Mark at Nova's right. Nova looked at Mark with a quizzical expression, and he just shrugged.

"Derek, I give you permission to beat him up," teased Nova.

"Not now…not someone who loans me pens and stuff," said Derek as he grabbed Mark's hand over Nova's lap.

"And not someone who loaned me five credits the other day," said Venture as he clasped Derek's hand.

"Okay…two guys who'll sit with a weird blond flat-chested…"

"Nova, don't say that!" cried Derek.

"…insomniac at nearly 0500 aren't bad," yawned Nova as she clasped both of their hands with her left hand. "Derek, you…in one way as the only true love of my life…Mark, you in another, as a dear friend…like the brother I never had… I love both you guys," said Nova affectionately.

"Thanks for the compliment," smiled Derek as he cuddled his head in close to Nova's neck and left shoulder. Nova kissed him softly, and pulled Mark into their hug with her right hand. Nova didn't kiss Mark, but, instead, affectionately mussed up some of the dark hair at the top of his head.

Then, the three of them went quiet and unselfconsciously snuggled as they watched the stars. Only among these three close friends did the contact not seem strange.

"So, what do we have to do to commemorate this night?" asked Mark.

"Become blood brothers and …sisters?" teased Derek.

"Silly…we already are," said Nova.

They again went silent. For a long time, they just remained there like that, watching the stars, and occasionally glancing at each other. For a moment, they felt perfectly safe; the cares of the mission and of shipboard life with people they didn't like but had to share the _Argo_ with had passed them by, dissolved by their mutual love and friendship…

* * *

"You smug idiots," hissed the Dark Lord as, in his darkened audience chamber, Ekogaru sat looking at the three friends cuddled in their hug on the _Argo_ while the scene remained on his screen. His fist clenched. "If I were there now, I'd _spit_ on you. I have subordinates. I have worshippers. I have slaves. But a God has no friends. No peers. How can it be that one such as I would have peers? I sit on the throne by myself, indivisible. Friendship has passed me by; and for me, love is a joke. I am now closer to you than before. Merely six hundred and fifty thousand lightyears separate me from you…and from Aliscea. Aliscea. I long for her…so I can drain her power and enslave her to my purposes. Derek…Nova…Mark…wouldn't the three of you look adorable chained up together in a labor camp? I might just grant you the joy of living so I can see the sight. Perhaps…and…perhaps, I can think of something better and more fitting for you scum. Perhaps. Yes…if I let you live."

The three friends had, in their embrace, unselfconsciously dozed off together. Ekogaru smiled darkly at the sight of Derek's, Nova's and Mark's faces in sleep. "Captain Wildstar…yes…I've watched you rut with your mate…and then sleep. Like baby animals. But, aren't the three of you the _cutest_ babies of all?" said Ekogaru in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Babies in their twenties. Daring to oppose the will of a God who has lived for over three thousand years! What _cheek_ you have! And just wait until you see the punishment I will have in store for you!"

At that, Ekogaru laughed a low, hissing laugh. The laugh didn't sound remotely human. Instead, it bore a great resemblance to the hissing of a serpent.

* * *

**III. _VALKYRIE_ TAKES FLIGHT**

**Space Patrol Ship _Valkyrie's_Dock**

**Wednesday, January 20, 2202**

**0845 Hours Spacetime**

* * *

It was near the appointed hour: 0845 on January the 20th. At 0900, the _Valkyrie's_ new skipper would assume command of her vessel.

At that moment, Lieutenant Denise Carroway, having read her dossier on the _Valkyrie_'s crew, stood before her ten-person crew on the small quay next to the ship herself. The crew stood at attention, in two ranks of five each. "At ease," snapped Carroway. Immediately, the crew snapped to an "at-ease" posture with their hands behind their backs.

The _Valkyrie_ herself, all 800 metric tons of her, sat gleaming in the water nearby looking factory-fresh, which she was.

Carroway stood there in her blue peacoat with a white anchor on one breast, light standard blue bellbottoms, and brown boots. She carried her cap in one hand, and her ascot was tucked into her jacket at the collar to keep the January wind out of her coat.

"First of all," she said. "In accordance with my orders, at 0900 hours, I, Lieutenant Denise Carroway, will hereby officially assume command of this vessel. Since we have a small crew, I'd like each one of you to step forward, sound off, and give your rank, name, position, and a brief description of your last assignment, and we can talk a little. Let's start with you, XO."

The somewhat chubby young man in a peacoat and bellbottoms, sans ascot and hat, saluted and stepped forward. "Aye, aye, ma'am. Mah name is Lieutenant Christopher Eager, the new Deputy Captain an' Navigator-pilot of the _Valkyrie_. Mah last assignment was servin' as tactical radar officer and Assistant pilot of a ship a hell of a lot bigger than this one."

"Mister Eager," said Carroway. "Are you making fun of your new assignment?'

"No, ma'am!" said Eager. "Just that…well…this girl should be easier to steer, that's all!"

"Good. You'll have plenty of opportunity to fly her, since we're going on a two-week test run before we go out with the Twentieth Interplanetary Defense Squadron in mid-February."

"The Twentieth, ma'am?" said an enlisted man near Eager. "How are we gonna fit in with those _Sun Htsu_ class frigates?"

"Tech Sergeant…?"

"Tyrone Garland, ma'am," said the tall, bearded man standing next to Eager. "Combat/Gunnery Specialist on your second bridge."

"Explain your question, Sergeant," said Carroway, eyeing up the tall chocolate-skinned man.

"Well, ma'am…what I mean is that we previously had eight frigates to an escort squadron; running in two flotillas of four each. How does a new ship like this fit in? It is smaller than a frigate."

"Sergeant," said Carroway. "Command expects this ship to take the place of a frigate for escort duties. She's more than adequately armed, she's faster, she's more maneuverable, and cheaper to build and takes less people to man. The _Sun Htsu's_ were originally designed as small battleships with emphasis on heavy armament, high speed and maneuverability, and a moderate armor belt. Problem is, for escort, light patrol, and courier purposes they're a little like killing a fly with a wave motion gun. So, this class was designed to take the place of those old patrol boats…those inadequate little aerospace planes they put on patrol and light escort duty. This was done to give us something adequate and fast for protection of shipping, general patrol duties, quick recon runs, even courier duties. I was told in a command briefing that these ships could even possibly be used to run either important information back and forth, or to run vaccine out to a colony or ship if we ever had an outbreak. The officer who told me about that idea said that they could possibly see an MD in short-term command of one of these ships in the future."

"Why, ma'am?" said Eager. "Who'd stick a _doctor_ in command of a _ship_?" The image that came to Eager's mind was ludicrous; he was picturing Doctor Sane, with bottle of "spring water", syringe, glasses, Mimi the cat and everything else...sitting there commanding a ship like this.

"Well, they said they made these ships simple enough so they could stick anyone with minimal fighter or recon pilot training in command of such a ship. They said there are a few EDF MD's who have piloting experience, believe it or not. Although, between you and me, I think the possibility of some sawbones commanding a warship is crazy. They're all drunks; I've never seen a doctor with the build to fit in a pilot's seat, they all freak out at explosions, and I doubt you'd ever find an MD or potential MD, man or woman, in this Fleet with piloting experience, a kill record, and the requisite degree and medical experience. If I ever meet someone like that and see them assuming command of one of these, I think I'll eat my cap," said Carroway with a grin. "Sorry about the diversion. Let's get back to the task at hand. Chief Engineer?" said Carroway, turning to Garland's right.

A youngish man with a blond crewcut stepped up and saluted. "Ma'am, my name is Lieutenant Junior Grade Neil Callaghan. I've been the assistant engineer on two other ships but never moved up to the Chief's slot before. Looks like I'm the chief."

"Good. Glad to hear you're alert," said Carroway as the wind blew through her hair. "Next?" said Carroway, walking further down her first row. "Sound off, miss."

Then, a slightly chubby woman with light brown hair and glasses spoke up. "Gunnery Sergeant Nicole Harrison, ma'am. I've been in combat, edge of Saturn-Titan on the frigate _Davy Crockett_. Looks like we hit our Alamo out there…hope we never get in that kind of spot again."

"We might, Harrison," said Carroway sadly. "Scuttlebutt says there's some nasty stuff going on out there. I'll tell you guys later. Next to you, end of the line, our radar specialist?"

"Ma'am, I'm Sergeant Ichiro Miyagawa. Served only planetside on Great Island. Never got aboard a ship until now. It'll be an honor, ma'am."

"And, you, now, leading off the next line," said Carroway, walking around to the first person in the second rank.

"Technical Sergeant Amid Hassain, ma'am. Communications specialist," said a somewhat mustachioed Arabic-looking man. "I was with Eager in the hospital. We were both on the _Argo_ beforehand, twice."

"Then I take it you know Lieutenant Homer Glitchman?" asked Carroway.

"Yes, ma'am. Served under him heading to Iscandar and Telezart. Reason I'm not on the _Argo _is because I was near Eager and his friends when that bombing raid took place. Nice guy, that Homer, but he's still crazy. I hear he still likes to swim in space," he said with a grin. The crew laughed for a moment.

"Hopefully, in a proper spacesuit," said Carroway with a smile. "Next?'

"Ma'am, Tech Sergeant Viktor Eisenhart. Mechanical Specialist on this ship. Specialty is robotics and robo-servos. Served in Berlin, ma'am. If I may say so, I also make a mean _knockwurst mit kraut_."

"Nice, you can help the cook in the galley when you don't have grease on your hands. Engine Control Specialist One?"

"Ma'am, Corporal Trisha Jaffee," said a dark-skinned girl whose hair was in cornrows. "I helped set this engine board up on the testbed in Fleet Construction. Took a lot of work to fit the controls of a wave motion engine in such a small space."

"Good job," said Carroway. "Next?"

"Sergeant Bob Llwelyn, ma'am. Just got finished studying this ship's tech manual. Quite a change from the cruiser I was on."

"And, last but not least, our Living Specialist, also known as our 'Chief Cook, Bottle Washer, and Pharmacist's Mate'," said Carroway with a laugh. "Name, please?"

"Corporal Cyndi Harvey, ma'am!" piped up the young blond, who looked to be no more than nineteen.

"First cruise?"

"Aye, ma'am!" she said. "Served on a small base beforehand, ma'am. Supply specialist!"

"Corporal, why are you screaming?" smiled Carroway.

"Habit I got in boot camp, ma'am, and Advanced Individual Training! Forty-six weeks of learning how to run a ship, perform first aid, and run a gunhouse! I can also cook, clean, wash, and make a mean coffee, ma'am!" she piped up as several people snickered.

"Good," said Carroway. "Want a battleship of your own?"

"Uhhhmmm…err…uhh…ehh…no, ma'am," said Harvey with downcast eyes.

"Don't worry; we'll show you the ropes, kiddo," said Carroway as she put an arm around Harvey. "All right, it's oh-nine hundred! I now hereby assume command of this vessel…let's get this show on the road! We're off to outer space, people!"

Everyone snapped to, saluted, and then began to follow Carroway up the gangplank with their suitcases and seabags.

Soon, the _Valkyrie_ was cruising away from her dock at slow speed. Her next destination was to be the Sea of Stars.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED WITH ACT SIX-"_Yvona's Dark Apotheosis_"**

* * *

**_THERE ARE NOW 125 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM_**

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

STAR BLAZERS---THE POTEMKIN VILLAGE

Being the sixth part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz

* * *

Notes: (1). Mr. Derek Wakefield has created the characters of Dac and Anya Windfield and these characters are used by permission. ---**Freddo**

* * *

ACT SIX--YVONA'S DARK APOTHEOSIS

* * *

I. A HEARING BEFORE THE CAPTAIN

Space Battleship _Argo_

Captain's Quarters

Thursday, January 21, 2202

0912 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Captain Derek Wildstar sat in a chair in his peacoat and cap with this back to the large, sweeping techtite window in his cabin. The bunk was up, the table stowed away, and right now, it was all business in the cabin he shared with Nova. 

Lieutenant Diane Henson stood front and center at ease with her hands behind her back. Behind her, to her right, stood Commander Mark Venture, who was answering questions as an official witness at her Mast, or Article 16 Commander's Hearing. A Captain's Mast, or official meeting before a ship's captain, could, according to the EDF Uniform Code of Military Justice, be one of two things. It could be a commendatory Mast in which the Captain could award honors, commendations, or a promotion, or it could be a condemnatory Mast, in which the Captain was authorized to hear evidence and present punishments in what amounted to an informal, low-level court-martial administered as part of ship's discipline.

Henson was obviously not up before Wildstar to be commended this morning. And, the words of the witness confirmed that.

"And that's exactly what she said, sir," said Venture. "She clearly refused to obey the orders of two of her superiors, and she showed an utter lack of regard or respect for both of them."

Wildstar nodded. "Thank you, Deputy Captain. Miss Henson. What do you have to say in your defense on that point?"

"I have issues with both of the officers in question, sir," she snapped.

"Which does not relieve you of your responsibility to obey their lawful orders or to show them the respect that is due to them because of their rank and their positions," said Wildstar.

"Positions," said Henson with a sarcastic edge. "I'll bet your friends have a lot of positions, sir. Is it because they know you?"

"Mrs. Wildstar; I'd like to hear from you," said Derek, turning towards Nova who stood at Henson's left. "Please describe your shipboard positions and responsibilities and date of appointment to those positions."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Nova briskly. "Sir, I'm the Group Leader of the Living Group. My Group is responsible for survey and analysis of terrestrial, intra-solar-system space regions, and interstellar areas and planetary surfaces, as well as for identification and analysis of lifeforms and alien cultures. As our travels frequently involve unexplored space, I am in charge of radar and scanners with assistance from the Navigation Group. My Group is also in charge of shipboard living arrangements, education, morale, and personal counseling as well as food preparation and maintenance of habitable spaces. As Head Nurse, I am also in charge of the Medical Group's Nursing Section and frequently assist Doctor Sane in surgical operations and general treatment and examination of ship's company and alien lifeforms brought aboard this ship."

"And when were you appointed to these positions?"

"Before the launch of the _Argo_, when she was named _Yamato_, from the East China Sea, sir. I was directly appointed to these positions by Admiral Abraham Avatar on 5 October 2199, sir."

"How well were you acquainted with me at that time?"

"As one of quite a few friends serving at the underground recon base near my hospital post on Okinawa, sir. In conjunction with your friends, we sometimes hung around off-duty as a group." _Even though I thought you were cute and needed a special friend back then, Derek_, thought Nova to herself, being wise enough to keep this to herself. She remembered she had told Derek about how her feelings for him had arisen, but Nova thought that Henson didn't need to know this, especially now. Another thought or two occurred to Nova, but she kept those to herself, although she was a little surprised how direct she was becoming. _I'm not the shy little girl I used to be,_ she mused. "We...well...there was no nepotism involved of any sort, sir. Avatar chose _all_ of us. In fact, when they came aboard the _Yamato_, these two were rather surprised to see me there in a shipboard uniform."

"Thank you, but kindly remember you're addressing the Court, as it were, Mrs. Wildstar." said Derek.

"Uh...yes...just thinking out loud, sorry. Is there anything else?"

"No thank you," said Wildstar. "Miss Henson, do you wish to dispute anything the witnesses have said?"

"No, sir," said Henson slowly, with fire in her eyes. Then, she said to herself, _Captain, you're punishing me because you're trying to get back at me for the breakup, aren't you? You cold Asian rat. I never should have slept with you...even to get to Randy. Hope I've done enough to ruin your happiness with her,_ she added. _You couldn't get a regular girl. You had to get someone with the body of a damn ballerina and the brain of a computer. I'm jealous...even though I did break it off with you. The way I feel...although this makes no sense...well...it ticks me off to see you so happy with her. I want to see you miserable and alone, you long-haired creep._

"Very well. Is there anything else you desire to say in your defense?" asked Derek.

"No, sir."

"Then, it's up to me to...just pass sentence. Miss Henson, I am ordering you to apologize to myself, to Deputy Captain Venture, and to Mrs. Wildstar for conduct unbecoming a Naval Officer. After you do so, you will leave with Deputy Captain Venture and report to Mister Hemsford of the Marine Group. You will then begin five days of solitary confinement in the ship's brig." At that, Henson's eyes went wide. "I don't _take_ crap from my officers," said Wildstar in a very stern voice. "Especially when they damn well _know_ better. Is that understood?"

"Yessir," said Henson in a near-whisper with tears in her eyes.

"I can't _hear _you, Lieutenant!" snapped Wildstar.

"Yessir!" screamed Henson. "And, sir, with all respect, I don't need to be treated like a midshipman!"

"If you act like one, that's what I _will_ treat you like," said Wildstar in an even voice. He got up. "You should have grown out of this malarkey in the space school. Isn't that _right_?" he added, consciously adding in a comment of Avatar's that the old Captain had shot back at him when he had once been insubordinate himself.

"Yessir, you're right. Captain, my apologies, sir."

Wildstar took her hand and shook it. "Accepted. Now for Venture..."

Henson turned to Venture. "Sir, I apologize for my conduct. It won't happen again." She offered her hand, and Venture shook it.

"Be more careful, would you?" he said.

"Aye, aye, sir," said Henson. Then, she just stood there in silence for a moment. She then slowly turned to Nova. "Ma'am, I'm sorry." She offered her hand, and Nova quietly shook it. They made quite a contrast. Henson had a good build, but was (in the old English measuring system) about 148 pounds and 5' 10" in heels with a heavy frame, dressed in her orange-on-white Engineering Group uniform with the sleeves rolled up. Nova was smaller, just 119 pounds and 5' 8" in heels with a much lighter frame, and was dressed in her black-on-gold Living Group uniform with a much neater appearance. Venture thought their handshake sort of looked like a lumbering white panther shaking hands with a lithe golden cheetah.

"Henson, just be careful from here on out," said Nova. "You're a smart woman. I hear from Orion you're very good at your job. Someone as smart as you doesn't need a bad service record."

"Thanks, ma'am," said Henson, but with no warmth in her eyes. She was flabbergasted at this unexpected kindness from an enemy. She let go of Nova's hand, and the two women then turned towards the Captain. Wildstar noticed that both of them had brown eyes, somewhat narrowed, but the expressions in their eyes were as different as night and day. One set of eyes oozed contempt and dislike, while the other radiated respect and amity, even in a very professional situation where the young officer had to act as just another member of the ship's company with a stone face before the Captain. Of course, when they were alone, it was quite different.

"Mrs. Wildstar, you're free to leave," said Derek. "I would like to say some things to the Lieutenant before she begins her confinement."

"I don't have anywhere to go, sir," said Nova. "With your permission, I'd like to wait outside and speak with you when you're finished."

"Good idea. You can get some water from the fountain in the head."

Nova saluted and left, dogging the heavy hatch behind her. When outside, she went into their small shared head and shut the hatch. It wasn't only because she needed water.

"Venture, I'd like you to leave us alone for a moment. Wait outside for your prisoner."

"Of course," said Venture. He left a moment later, shutting the hatch behind him. "I'm alone," he muttered. "Now where'd she go?"

Then, he looked at the hatch for the head. The little window under the doorknob read _OCCUPIED_. Mark then heard soft singing from inside. "_I've got you...stuck in my hair_...ohhh...you stupid _knot_!"

I think me nibs is busy with her hair brush, thought Venture with amusement. _I wonder if Holly takes as long in there as you do, m'dear. Might be good to know if Holly decides I'm her guy..._thought Venture with amusement.

* * *

Inside his cabin, Wildstar threw his hat on his chair and stood alone with his former girlfriend for the first time since they had broken up in 2198.

thought Venture with amusement.Inside his cabin, Wildstar threw his hat on his chair and stood alone with his former girlfriend for the first time since they had broken up in 2198. 

"Why'd you throw that hat on your chair, sir?" asked Henson.

"Because for the next few minutes, we're not Captain and subordinate," said Derek. "The smoking lamp is on, as it were. I've got to ask you something, Diane."

"Yes?"

"Why do you loathe my freedom so much if you let me _go_ in the first place? You're really not making any sense, Diane."

"Derek, you never understood women. And you're a sucker. When we were together, I was around. You didn't even know how to get to first base, buddy."

"I was less experienced than you. As a matter of fact, I had never _been_ with a woman before until I met you. Didn't you take _that_ into account?"

"The guy's supposed to be experienced. Every woman wants someone who's been around. I dallied with you, then I saw Parmon. That guy had been around. You hadn't. Most women would want someone who _knows_ how to fit part A into part B."

"Not all women think like that, Diane. Some women _like_ innocence."

"Innocence," sneered Diane. "Did I ever tell you what my first time was like?'

"No...you never did," said Derek.

"It was in the back seat of an aircar. The guy was drunk. He stank. I didn't want it. That's what all of you men are like. Randy tomcat fighter jocks."

Derek just shook his head. "Diane, I feel something for you."

"You do? What?" said Henson, with her voice somewhere between longing and loathing.

"Compassion. I'm sorry that you...had so many bad experiences. I really am. I want to let you know that I forgive you for all that happened between us." said Derek. "And I have to let you know something else, too; we can't turn back the clock to what existed years ago. I'm married, and I'm also not the same man you once knew. I was to Iscandar and back in eleven months, and then I led a mutiny to fight the Comet Empire."

"And what did you learn?"

Diane was surprised by what Wildstar said. He sighed and said, "Sometimes, victory tastes like ashes in your mouth when you bite down on it. A good teacher...a good man, a father...can make a man out of a punk, even if the man still has a little rebel in him," said Derek as he pushed some hair out of his eyes. "You can fight with a man, but when you work with him in a common cause, rivals can be the best of friends, sometimes. Unlike what you said once, your best friend can also be your lover. And, you can learn great insights from your enemies. Sometimes, mortal enemies can become close friends at the drop of a hat."

"And...?" said Diane.

Derek just put his head back and murmured, "Love...or the ability to love... can be the first casualty of a war. It wasn't that way for me, thank God. Don't let it be that way for you, Diane. You _will_ find someone. In the meantime...do your job...and please let bygones be bygones."

"Why?" said Diane in a flat voice.

"If you won't do it for me," said Wildstar as he turned his back to her. "Then, for God's sake, do it for the woman I'm married to. She's a very good person, and she doesn't need the grief you've been putting her through. In the meantime, I do feel sorry for you."

"Why?" snapped Diane again.

"Because...I've become a different man, while life has just passed you by." Wildstar looked over his shoulder at her and Diane felt both surprise and loathing when she saw a tear glimmering in Derek's eye. "Good luck, Diane," he murmured. "And I do mean that."

Henson said nothing for a long moment. Finally, she said, "Captain, am I free to go?"

"You are."

"Thank you, sir," she said in an expressionless voice. At that, she saluted and left.

Outside, Venture was waiting for her. "C'mon," he said, taking her by the arm. As they turned to head down the stairwell, Nova came out of the head and almost walked right into Diane.

"Excuse me," she murmured. Then, Nova turned to the hatch that led to their cabin and began to punch in the key code on a small keypad in the bulkhead.

Four digits, thought Diane. _Then, enter. This gives me an idea...but can I do it?_ thought Diane.

"Henson, come _on_," said Venture. "What were you looking at?"

"Not much," said Henson. "Funny...her outfit's tighter than mine."

"She's just built differently than you," said Venture as they headed down the staircase. "We're going to your cabin first so you can get what you can put in one bag for the brig."

Then, they both left. The lock had clicked for their hatch, but Nova just shook her head quietly for a moment as she watched Mark and Diane receding down the stairwell. _Something's not right about this_, she thought. _But what is it? I wish I had special insight like Aliscea or Queen Starsha. What's going on here?_

* * *

Without any preamble, Nova just came in. "You want coffee?" she said. 

"No, tea," Derek replied. His voice was doleful.

"What's wrong?" asked Nova.

"Her," said Derek. "Nova, the past is the past. I tried to tell her that. You know she broke it off with me, years ago, for Pete's sake. Why can't that damn green-eyed monster of a woman just drop it and let the past be the past?"

"Well, she has brown eyes," said Nova. "But, in some people, there lives a little green-eyed monster, called envy." Nova put the water on to heat in their microwave. "She can't stand what we have, and she wants a cookie so bad that she'll break other people's cookies to get her own way. A bit like a nasty three-year old. I feel very sorry for her, Derek. I wish there was more we could do for her."

"Why are we stuck with this particular woman...on this ship?"

Nova came up behind Derek, put her arms around his neck, stood up on tiptoe in her boots, and sighed. "I'm not sure...and..."

"Yes?"

"There's something about her that's funny. I don't know what it is, Derek, but there's something I don't trust about her. I'd almost recommend a psychological evaluation after she gets out of the brig if I had the chance. You know what you once said about there's "something in the air" around the time Zordar started his reign of terror against us?"

"Yes..."

"There's something in the air here, too, Derek. And it's nothing you can smell...just a sense I get that she's up to no good. I don't like the way she looks at me." Nova hugged him close and said, "There's just...something weird in her eyes."

* * *

II. AIN'T NO CURE FOR THE ISCANDAR BLUES

Planet Iscandar

Mother Town: Queen Starsha's Palace

Thursday, January 21, 2202

1541 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Jonathan Hartnell-Iiyama was dressed now in a white tunic, blue tights, and high brown boots, all Iscandarian-style. 

He was on the floor of a small audience room in Queen Starsha's palace, too in awe of the throne and its occupant to push himself up off his stomach, and too scared to look up at the legendary Starsha's face. Being this scared, he prostrated himself in the same fashion he had seen in a film in school when someone prostrated themselves before the Emperor or the Shogun of ancient Japan.

"Your highness," he said in a trembling voice. "I hope you don't interrogate me too long...I'm a bit scared of you."

"Why?" said Starsha in a soft, gentle voice.

"You have great and terrible powers. That's kinda scary! You...you helped the Star Force from over 70,000 lightyears away, and you knew what they were up to...you..."

"I offered some guidance," she said softly. "Now, would you get up, please?"

Considering this a royal command, the boy slowly stood up. He noticed that Starsha seemed to be wearing something like ballet slippers under her long blue gown, which touched the floor. The gown was her usual type, something between sky and royal blue with her usual plunging neckline.

Starsha sat on a pinkish throne near a window. Beside her, to her right, stood Royal Consort Alex Wildstar, who wore black slacks and a black peacoat with red collar patterned after the obsolete blue United Nations Space Defense Force Captain's peacoat that he had worn as the commander of Missile Ship Number 17, the _Paladin._ Jonathan remembered hearing in school that the wreck of the old _Paladin_ had been salvaged from Titan and was now somewhere on Earth.

Beside Jonathan stood Astra, in a purple gown and thin white sandals, and Conor, in a green coat with high collar a bit like Alex's, with white leggings and black boots.

When Jonathan was up, he was surprised as Starsha reached over and mussed up his hair. She gave him a hug and then directed him to sit on a small crystalline stool that came up from the floor near the throne.

"I would love to hear from you something about how you came to come here from faraway Earth," said Starsha. "This man is my Consort, Alex Wildstar. He's the father of Astra and of my other children. I was very surprised to hear from Astra that you arrived here."

"I was surprised, too," said Jonathan. "Especially because...well...because my parents are dead. They died when I was captured; I miss them so much!"

Jonathan lost his reserve and began to cry. Unexpectedly, Alex came over, helped him up off his seat, and embraced him.

"I know how you feel," he said. "My brother Derek and I lost our parents years ago to a Gamilon planet bomb. If it wasn't for Starsha and our family, I wouldn't have anyone. I'd be like my brother Derek. He's all alone in the world, except for his friends and his girlfriend."

"No, he has a wife now, Alex," said Starsha calmly. Alex's eyes went up.

"Derek and Nova got married?"

"Yes, less than a month ago," said Starsha. "I sensed it from afar while I was in my meditations one night. Your brother's love for Nova is very deep. She looks almost like you, Astra. In fact, when I first saw her, I thought she _was_ your namesake, namely, my late sister Astra, your aunt."

"Thanks, Mother," said Astra softly. "Ironic, isn't it, that Nova's my aunt now? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Why not get us food and drink, my Princess?" said Starsha. "There's still not many of us here; and I don't feel like calling in the robotic delivery units. I'll be talking to the boy for quite a while."

"Of course," said Astra. She bowed slightly in her mother's direction and left.

"Now, Jonathan," asked Starsha. "Could you start from the beginning, please? How was it that your cruise ship was attacked?"

* * *

Later on that day, much later, after Starsha had dismissed Astra, Conor and Jonathan after Jonathan had told his tale, the Queen of Iscandar and her consort walked slowly through a complex of caves deep beneath Mother Town. Alex carried an electric light as Starsha walked on behind, deep in thought. 

"So what does this business with the Rikashans remind you of?" asked Alex.

"Something from the histories. Something about the Dark Times and an order of raiders founded by the terrible Lord Dardaana of Iscandar. I told you about the legend of Lord Dardaana...didn't I?"

"Dardaana...wasn't he an ancient ruler of Iscandar who went bad long before your House took power?"

"That's what the legends say, Alex. It's been so long since I've looked at the old scrolls on the topic. I don't know how many are even left here. Most of the scrolls concerning the Dark Times that are now 3200 years in our past were in the old library in Shipwrights' City on Diamond Island."

"Shipwrights' City? What happened to it?"

"It was drowned with the rest of Diamond Island when the tsunami hit, Alex. But, we need those scrolls. And, I need to reach out to the Star Force. I think they may be on their way."

"They're on their way here?"

"Yes. The boy said they were out in space fighting some conflict once again. And I have this sense that our paths will cross again soon...and perhaps..."

Starsha stopped, holding her forehead. She looked like she was in pain.

"Starsha...what's wrong?" asked Alex in concern as she sunk to her knees on the floor. "_Starsha!_"

"A...A terrible presence just reached out to me...and then passed over us like a cloud. You can't see it, Alex...you..."

Then, at that, Alex was shocked as Starsha simply shut her eyes and reached out with her mind.

* * *

On the _Argo_, at the same moment, Aliscea was meditating alone in the cabin she shared with Paul. Rosstowski was on the ship's bride, at his post, so he wasn't in the cabin. 

Aliscea sat barefoot with her legs crossed on a small rug, with her mind reaching out deep into the astral plane.

You have found me. she thought. _You are not our enemy, the Dark Lord. Who are you? _

You are another mind? On the **Argo**? Someone who can reach out into this plane? Who are you?

I am Aliscea of Pellias. Who are you? You sound kind.

You are on the **Argo**? Pardon my surprise. I am Queen Starsha of Iscandar.

Iscandar? This saves effort. We are on our way there. The Star Force and I wish to consult with you; and you will soon be at the eye of the storm.

What do you mean by that?

The Disciple of Dardaana is on his way towards Iscandar. He still lives. He is the enemy you felt. He is terrible. He just destroyed my home planet, and he and his people are reaching towards Earth...and Iscandar.

Are we in danger now?

Not yet, your Highness. But, he can touch minds with us. We cannot keep this link up for long; he may soon detect us.

I must contact Captain Wildstar. I must make him aware that I am anticipating your arrival. Is that safe?

Yes, if it is kept short.

Can you tell us about our enemy?

I intend to when I arrive. Until then, be stalwart. And find all you can on the Dark Times, and watch Iscandar...she thought.

* * *

"Homer, it's almost time for our last message to Earth Defense Headquarters before we warp out of communications range," said Captain Derek Wildstar on the bridge of the _Argo_.

she thought."Homer, it's almost time for our last message to Earth Defense Headquarters before we warp out of communications range," said Captain Derek Wildstar on the bridge of the . 

"Yessir," said Homer. "When do you want the link established?"

"At sixteen hundred..." began Derek, who stopped when Venture shouted..."_Wildstar!_ Look at the main screen!"

"What?" said Derek, who looked up just as the lights dimmed a bit on the bridge.

The screen didn't come on, but a ball of light appeared in the air over it.

"What?" said Holly Parsons. "Nova...it looks like a woman's face!"

Nova looked up and cried, "Derek...it's Queen Starsha!"

At that, the whole bridge crew got up and congregated around the Astro-Compass, looking up in awe at the image of the mysterious Queen who had helped to save Earth.

Wildstar looked up at the astral image of Starsha's face. _She looks a little older_, he thought. "Queen Starsha! Why are you contacting us?" he said.

Again, I am Queen Starsha, of Iscandar. Captain Derek Wildstar, we are well-met, but I must make this short, said Starsha's soft, high voice from nowhere as the image drifted over the screen. _I_ _have touched minds with something terrible, but then touched minds with your guest, Aliscea of Pellias. She has made me aware, mind to mind, that you are coming to Iscandar to seek counsel on how to deal with your enemy. I have been watching over your progress, and I am aware that you are fighting an enemy known as the Rikashans. A boy from Earth named Jonathan Hartnell-Iiyama is here on Iscandar. He arrived here as a castaway, and he has made me...and your brother... aware of the evil of the Rikashan Empire. Hurry to Iscandar. We must speak soon. This is Starsha, of Iscandar, _said Starsha's soft, high voice from nowhere as the image drifted over the screen.

The image faded just as Aliscea appeared on the _Argo'_s bridge. She wore her black dress, but looked disheveled, tired, and was still barefoot. "Starsha spoke to us?" she said.

"Yes, she did," said Rosstowski.

"I just met her, Captain Wildstar. Her power is less than mine, but her wisdom is greater. I have much knowledge, but am unsure of how to apply all of it to this situation. It seems our enemy, the Dark Lord, also had prior dealings with Iscandar long, long ago. Queen Starsha hinted that he may be known of in their legends, too. We must hurry on. Starsha hinted that Iscandar itself may be in danger."

"We will try," said Captain Wildstar. "However, we have many perils to face. Not far away from here, there is a cluster of stars that we will soon encounter. Can you possibly guide us in a path to avoid this danger that we can get to Iscandar more quickly?"

"Possibly," said Aliscea. "Difficult to tell. Our enemy...his depredations have wiped out civilizations before he even comes. Names are coming to me...Planets Calvarda...Lenomisk...Daruvar...Dezarium...Phernarda, all laid waste. Many of these worlds are now no more. Civilizations both good and evil...all destroyed as a result of what Ekogaru's Fortress has done to both time and space. Trillions of intelligent beings of many races are now dead. Killed in the same manner that a large man might walk over an anthill...walking on, without even thinking of the lives he has destroyed. I sense that in his path, Ekogaru has forever saved Iscandar, Gamilon, and Earth from one evil power, but at what cost? Is it worth it to, in your terms, as it were...to see Mesitopheles defeated, only to have to deal with Lucifer himself in his stead? I must meditate on this. So much is uncertain..."

At that, Aliscea walked off the bridge.

"What should we tell the Commander, Wildstar?" asked Venture.

"Hmmm," said Sandor. "We need to tell him that we had contact with Iscandar."

"And we need to tell him what Starsha told us...and what Aliscea said," said Nova.

Derek nodded. "All of you guys are right. Thanks. Everyone, back to your posts. Homer, put us through to the Commander. What I'm about to tell him will really shake him up..."

"Yessir," said Homer.

* * *

III. A LION IN WINTER

Space Battleship _Potemkin_

The Neptune Area

Friday, January 22, 2202

0732 Hours Spacetime

* * *

On the near-wreck that was the _Potemkin_, Yvona Josiah now wore her stolen Captain's peacoat over a dirty sackcloth dress once again. The effects of Ekogaru's transformation had now worn off so she was now both fat and ugly and she could no longer fit into the clothes she had stolen from Nova. 

She was an evil presence on the bridge of her battered ship that even her own cult members were beginning to fear and loathe.

"You tell me where we are..._now_, Noah!" she demanded.

"I'm not sure," said Noah.

"Ma'am, we just barely survived that battle on the 18th; and we almost blew up the ship when we warped," said Jared.

"And I insisted we warp again once I found out we were at the edge of the solar system in that asteroid field that used to be Planet Minerva."

"And you've practically finished the wave engine, Prophetess. One more warp, and she'll burn out. Then, we can't go anywhere. This is dangerous, Prophetess," said Noah. "We have only twenty people left alive on this ship. Six of those are surviving crewmembers that we forced into the brig when we took this ship. Those are resourceful men and women down there, ma'am. They'll eventually escape and retake this ship, especially since we have no guards. We're trying to run a ship that needs over a hundred crew members with just twelve, since four of us are children, ma'am. May I ask what you're trying to accomplish, ma'am? No disrespect is meant, but this sounds like..."

"Suicide? It might be," smiled Yvona. "For _you_. I have just heard from our Lordship."

"Yes? What does the Lord say?" asked Jezebel.

"He says, it is time for me to _leave_ and ascend into Glory!" said Yvona with a smile. "Noah, get over to the helm and turn the ship about. I then leave command to you, Jared. A R'Khell shuttle is coming from one of their subs. I am getting my bag. You will see me off. All of you! It is time for my Apotheosis to begin!"

A few minutes later, eleven men and women stood in the _Potemkin's_ Lower Boat Bay as a dark red shuttlecraft, obviously of alien design, pulled into the ship. Only Yvona saluted. No one else dared to.

Yvona stood there in her filthy clothing with a bag. She smiled insanely as the hatch opened and five R'Khell warriors stepped out. Three were officers; two were red-armored troopers.

"Are you Yvona Josiah?" asked the bearded, tall man in a turban who seemed to be their leader. He wore a bright red tunic, black pants and boots, and a black cape.

"I am."

"Prophetess Josiah, _R'jkharraz_ by the will of our War god Ekogaru, I am Leftenant Krenus of the R'Khell Priesthood of the Rikashan Star Empire. This other man in the turban is Leftenant D'Velda. He and his honor guard will conduct you to glory. I and Darsten, here, the bald man, am now assuming command of this vessel as a ship of the line of the Rikashan Star Empire. I thank you for your efforts, Lady. Your submarine awaits to take you to the rendezvous point with Gralnasz and the _Sukalnach_," he said as the crew looked at Yvona with shocked faces. "He will convey you into the Holy Presence of the Dark Lord Himself."

"Thank you," said Yvona as she bowed.

"Prophetess!" yelled Noah as he realized what was going on. "You can't leave us like this!"

"Please don't go!" cried Jezebel.

"Don't leave!" cried Jared.

Darsten uncurled a whip and hit Jezebel with it. The blow knocked the young woman to the floor with a bleeding abdomen and torn dress. She screamed. "No! _Prophetess_!"

"I leave you and the cult to His Servants," said Yvona. "I shall return...in glory, in a resurrection form, eternally beautiful. Noah, I left you the pictures of myself as a young woman. See to it that the cult learns of them."

"Yes, Prophetess," he said as he knelt and tears flowed.

"I leave all of you now!" said Yvona as she raised a hand in benediction. "When I return...you shall aid me as the new Masters of Earth!"

Then, without a further glance, Yvona did an about-face, and, cackling her head off, she left with D'Velda and the honor guard. Soon, the hatch of the shuttle hissed shut, and the red ship lurched off the _Potemkin _and roared off into the depths of space with Yvona.

"She abandoned us," moaned Jezebel. "In our hour of need, she abandoned us. And I'm _bleeding!_ It _hurts_!" cried Jezebel, grasping her stomach. It was only a flesh wound, but the tear in her dress left more of the young woman exposed than she cared to have anyone see.

"You be quiet," snapped one of the armored troopers, who ran over to Jezebel and brutally kicked her once at the base of her spine. The young woman curled up weeping into a ball on the deck. "Any more of that from you, and I'll take you like a _beast_, woman! I'll disrobe you right in front of these men to do it!"

"You people..._stop_ it! She ran...that's what she did! The great Yvona ran!" barked Jared. "_Coward_!"

"Silence!" barked Krenus. "Conduct me to your bridge. I shall see what we can do to execute our next warp."

"Sir, it will be dangerous," said Noah. "The _Argo_ damaged us very badly in our last battle."

"We have ways of working around such things," purred Krenus. "I, too, am _R'Jkharraz_. I have the power to deal with these trifling problems. Let us go."

"Yessir," said Noah slowly.

Under the tutelage of their new masters from the Rikashan Empire, the surviving cultists' crew of _Potemkin_ slowly strode back towards their bridge.

* * *

IV. A MOST UNEXPECTED MEETING

Earth's Solar System

Space Gunboat _Valkyrie_

Friday, January 22, 2202

0940 Hours

* * *

"I've got an object on radar, Captain," said Miyagawa from his post on the _Valkyrie's _First Bridge. The gunboat's first bridge was quite cramped; it had room for only four crewmembers. "Distance, twenty megameters, speed, eighteen space knots. She's off our port bow. You want it on video, ma'am?" 

From her post at the port side of the _Valkyrie's_ First Bridge, Captain Denise Carroway looked back at Miyagawa and nodded. "Let's have a look at it. Mister Eager, keep us on course."

"Roger!" said Eager from his post beside Carroway. "It's comin' up on our little screen now."

"What _the?_" said Carroway as she looked at the small screen on the console that she and Eager shared...it sat between their seats and the controls that were in front of each of them. "It's a _Jamaica-_class battleship. Looks like she's taken heavy damage. Funny...we're between Earth and Mars in RX-345. The nearest battleship is supposed to be at least several hundred megameters away from us. Miyagawa! Are you getting an IFF signal from that thing?"

Miyagawa ran some scans at his radar. "No' ma'am. It's as dead as a doornail."

"Hassain, hail it," said Carroway.

"Aye, aye, ma'am," said Sergeant Hassain from Communications. "Unknown spacecraft; this is the Earth Federation space gunboat _Valkyrie._ You are not answering our transponder hails and we cannot identify you. Please confirm your identity and reply, over!"

Only silence came from the battered battleship.

"Unknown spacecraft," said Hassain again. "We require you to identify yourself. You are in Earth Federation space and we are unsure of your intentions. Over!"

"Distance, eighteen megameters," said Miyagawa. "OH! An object just separated from the ship! It's coming in fast...damnit..._missiles approaching_! Evade!"

"You don't need ta tell me twice," said Eager, who flipped the _Valkyrie_ over on her axis as soon as the missiles roared in. They zipped past the gunboat harmlessly.

"Well, I think I know whom we've just met," said Miyagawa. "The _Potemkin_. She's on the same course, closing at sixteen megameters, ma'am!"

"Battle stations," said Carroway as she flicked on the klaxons. "All hands to battle stations," she said into her intercom. "We've spotted a hostile ship off our port bow and have exchanged fire. All hands to battle stations!"

"Eager, I think we need to test our torpedoes out in a real-life scenario; wouldn't you agree?"

Eager nodded. "How much speed ya need?"

"Bring us up to twenty-five space knots; I'm going in like a fighter," said Carroway as she flicked switches. "I'll take the helm in eighty seconds. I'm getting in there on her six, firing a spread of torpedoes at eleven megameters' distance so their guns can't hit us, then we're hauling out of here! Torpedoman, prepare a spread of three torpedoes," she said, calling down to the Second Bridge, which was just below this deck.

A moment later, Sergeant Nicole Harrison spoke up on the intercom. "Your torpedoes are ready and armed, ma'am."

"Great," said Carroway. "Hassain, report this to Earth Defense."

"Got it," said Hassain. "Sending a coded blip now."

"Aren't we tryin' to communicate with 'em again?" asked Eager.

"They told us all they needed to know when they fired on us," said Carroway as the _Valkyrie's_ speed increased. "And, look at that screen...looks like she's trying to turn her aft guns on us. Well, buddy, I'm not gonna give you a chance to fire on us...we can hit you, but you can't hit us since you're still out of range. Taking control of the helm now," added Carroway as she took her flight yoke and began to line up the target scope on the _Potemkin_. "Nice run," she called out over the singing of her new ship's engine. Locked on, in our dive...armed..." said Carroway as she worked controls. "Here we go," she said with her hand on a firing pickle. "Fire torpedoes one, two, and three," she said as she punched the button three times while moving the joystick towards the right.

Three torpedoes roared out of the _Valkyrie's_ bow tubes straight towards the _Potemkin_. At the same time, the new gunboat pulled up, evading a counter-attack missile fired by the _Potemkin_.

Two of the _Valkyrie's_ missiles slammed into the _Potemkin_ a moment later. The space battleship's main engine was finally blown into scrap as an explosion roared out of the shattered nozzle at the ship's stern. The other missile blew apart the battleship's aft gun turret.

A short circuit inside the ruined _Potemkin_ made its forward braking thrusters go off at random, stopping its coast. The once-mighty battleship was now smoking again, and it was also dead in her tracks.

* * *

"Tell me," said Jared aboard the _Potemkin_. "What do you think of our resistance now, Krenus? Our ship will now never fly again." 

"This is what _I _think of your defeatist attitude aboard the _Rikashan_ ship this now is!" said Krenus. Then, the R'Khell officer used his _R'jkharraz_ psionic powers to run Jared through with a burst of lightning. The cultist died sitting in his chair.

Noah tried to attack the _R'jkharraz_ with a broken piece of conduit from the torn bridge of the _Potemkin_, but he was also knocked dead in his tracks by Krenus and he died on the deck in a smoking heap.

Krenus looked at the surviving cultists and made an animalistic noise, deciding to kill all of the Terrans. As he prepared his power, through, he was knocked to the ground from a blow to the back of his head caused by a woman wielding an abandoned food tray. It was Jezebel.

The young woman then howled and sunk a dagger into the Rikashan officer's back. Darsten, the other R'Khell officer, came to his fallen comrade's aid with a whip, which he used to cruelly knock the dagger out of Jezebel's hand. With a wicked grin, he drew his sidearm and shot Jezebel dead, along with the remaining three adult cultists left on the _Potemkin's_ bridge.

A screaming child clad only in a wet, sagging diaper ran under a console, trying to hide herself from the chaos of the battle. Darsten then yelled, "Trooper! Drag that brat out and smash its head into the deck!"

"Of course," said the armored trooper. "Little girl," he said in heavily accented Terran as he pulled out his sidearm. "Come out! I've got _candy_ for you."

The port side hatch whizzed open a moment later, and laser fire hissed in, knocking the trooper dead.

"What?" yelled Darsten. A puff of smoke cleared, and he found himself confronted by five men and one woman. They wore ragtag EDF uniforms or parts of them, and two of the men went barefoot, but they looked very disciplined and were armed.

"I'm Ensign Patrick Culhaven, Earth Defense Forces." said the shortest of them, a gallant little man in a torn Standard Blue EDF uniform who looked a bit like a younger version of Doctor Sane minus the glasses and with dark brown hair. "My XO here is Warrant Officer Tricia Steele, our former Medical Boat pilot."

"These cultists put us in the brig," said Tricia, who was clad only in her EDF Standard Blue uniform bodice and her black boots; with her bare legs, it looked a bit like a gymnast's leotard on her. She nimbly leaped up on top of a burning console and said, "As I think you can see, we've finally got our stuff together and escaped. We fought a little battle and put the four surviving cultists we found in the brig."

"So, what does that mean to _me_?" said Darsten in an arrogant voice.

"There's you, and your single goon over there," said Culhaven as he covered Tricia and aimed his weapon at Darsten. Smoke blew around him, but he ignored the burning in his eyes "As you can see, we're all armed. Throw down your weapons and surrender! I am now the ranking officer on this ship of the line, and am reassuming command of her as a vessel of the Earth Defense Forces! The illegitimate occupation of this vessel is now ended! Throw up your hands and _surrender_, you!"

"Why don't you drop _dead_?" hissed Darsten. He began to brandish his whip again.

Tricia and one of her comrades fired, killing Darsten instantly. The remaining trooper roared and shot one of them, but two others got behind wrecked bridge chairs and fired back at the trooper. He fell wounded to the deck.

Tricia jumped off her console and ran over to the trooper. "This is for Miyazaki, you creep!" She pulled off his helmet and spat in his face. "Brodsky, you and Dovrovski get him tied up. Looks like we got us a prisoner!"

They responded while Culhaven fiddled with the communications console. "_Damnit_, she's all burnt out! I got to use this console for only a week when we did our test run, Trish."

"Yeah...they really dishonored our ship," said Steele. Her eyes looked very sad; she was holding the little girl in her arms. "Look at her, sir. Barely even dressed. This ship is no place for a baby! This is horrible!"

"We oughta tell the remaining three surviving cultists that," said Culhaven.

"Can you get that working, sir?" asked Steele.

"Trying. Nothing's working but the laser-send capability...hey, Pearson. How's the engine?"

"Dead," said an enlisted man as he stared at the engineering console. "Even life support's kinda dicey. Looks like the radar's dead, too. Whatever happened to this ship, it really got worked over by somebody? How many battles did those lunatics take this ship into? And who attacked her? Nothing's working on this damn ship!"

"Don't know," said Culhaven. He had to hold on as an explosion rang thorough the ship. "What's that?"

While trying to quiet the squalling toddler, Steele looked out a window. "Great...some ship that looks like an old Earth Defense Missile Ship just fired upon us. And I see Cosmo Tigers roaring in off in the distance!"

"Damnit. We must be getting attacked by our own forces. This really _reeks_!" said Culhaven.

"What can you do?"

"Try to send a laser flash code to the missile ship...and hope they see it."

* * *

"We're in touch with the spacecraft carrier _Akagi_ now, ma'am," said Hassain. "She's sitting about a hundred megameters behind the battle area, and her CAP patrol is coming in to help us finish them off." 

"You flashed a message to that ship requesting their surrender?" asked Carroway.

Hassain nodded. "They haven't responded."

"Looks like they don't want to surrender. Okay, we'll coordinate a final strike with that Flight Group...you said they were called the Texans, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Hassain. "Got their squadron leader on the horn now."

"Hello, space gunboat _Potemkin_?" said Dac Windfield's voice on the ship's speakers.

"Mister Windfield," said Carroway. "Nice to hear from you today, old buddy. As skipper of this ship, I'd like to coordinate a final attack. Could you guys split that squadron up and bring in your planes from RP-345 and XT-242? That'll put you on the ship's topside and keel. We'll hit their starboard flank with another torpedo spread. Between our torpedoes, and your missiles, we should be able to finish those terrorists off."

"Love to oblige you," said Dac. "My wife Anastasia had family in Chicago. She isn't very happy about what that ship did, and neither am I. I'd love to play destroyer on those guys."

"Well, we'll get our chance. I'll meet you and your wife at Mars Station Alpha if everything works out."

"Thanks. Now let's do our jobs. I'm ready..."

"Thanks, Windfield. Over and out." Carroway smiled. "We're ready, now let's begin our next run. Locked on...here we..."

"Ma'am..._hold it_," said Hassain. "_Potemkin's_ finally sending us a message!"

"She is?" said Carroway. "Abort run...control's back in your hands, Eager."

"Roger," he said as the loud whine of the engine levelled out.

"Hassain, tell Windfield to hold on that attack run...at least until I hear what they're saying."

"Right," said Hassain.

"What?" said Windfield. "Okay, if that's what she wants," he said. "_Texans! Abort attack run! Repeat, you guys abort that run! Hold position and wait for orders_!" _What could they be saying that's making Carroway hold off?_ thought Windfield irritably. _When I knew her in training, she was never a Nervous Norvus like that!_

"Well, they sent by laser blinker," said Hassain. "This is what they said."

"Read it," said Carroway; she sat at her post with her chair turned around to face the aft part of the first bridge.

"Yes, ma'am._ To the Commander of Earth Defense Missile Ship and Earth Federation Fighter squadron. This is Ensign Patrick Culhaven, Communications Officer and Acting Commander of the Federation Space Battleship **Potemkin**. A few members of my crew and I were being held prisoner in our own brig by the cultists, with aid from orange-skinned enemy troops of an unknown race. Since many of the cultists are apparently dead, we broke out of the brig and have just retaken our ship. The material condition of **Potemkin** is critical. She is in need of immediate dockyard work. We are prepared to surrender the vessel back to higher Command authority for repair and salvage. We also have prisoners and civilian wounded; the civilians are mostly children of the cultists now orphaned. Please send a boarding party; we will need to be taken under tow. Over_."

"Ma'am, you think it's a trick?" asked Eager.

"Why would they _want_ to be boarded if they were playing games?" mused Carroway. "Of course, we can't handle this ourselves. Hassain, send a response to them, telling them to expect a boarding party. Then, call the _Akagi_. They'll need to provide Marines, a repair crew, and medical assistance."

"Roger."

"And, tell Windfield to stand down. And tell him...sorry. I wanted to kick their butts too."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"What are they saying?" asked Steele on the _Potemkin_. 

Culhaven stood at his station, watching the quick laser blips from the bow of the _Valkyrie_ on his screen, and watching another screen as the code translated into ordinary language. "_Message received. This is space gunboat **Valkyrie**. We have communicated with the spacecraft carrier **Akagi**. You are now being escorted by twenty-four Cosmo Tigers. Prepare for boarding and rescue operations, and please lend assistance in extinguishing fires and preparing your ship to be taken under tow for conveyance to Mars for refit, repair, and reprovisioning. Have your prisoners ready for interrogation and debriefing. Welcome back to the Fleet, **Potemkin**. Please acknowledge...over_."

"Great!" yelled Culhaven as all of the other Terran crewmembers on the bridge cheered. "They're not gonna blow us up!"

"Stop celebrating, scum," said the R'Khell trooper, who was now tied up and under guard.

"_You_ shut your trap, or we'll _gag _you," snapped Steele.

"You wouldn't dare, girl!"

"Oh, I would," said Steele. "Did you acknowledge the message, sir?"

"Damn straight I did," said Culhaven with a smile. "And stop calling me "sir.""

"Yessir."

"Call me Pat, damnit. And, when we get done, like me to buy you dinner?"

"Oh...how sweet," said Steele. "Okay, fine..._Pat_. My friends usually call me Trish, by the way."

"Sounds good, Trish," said Culhaven. "Well, I sent the message."

"Oh, Pat. Got something else to tell you."

"Yes?" said Culhaven.

"You've got a funny face, but you're kind of cute," said Trish.

"Thanks," said Culhaven with a blush.

* * *

V. MORE WAYS TO STOP US THAN...

Deep Space

Space Battleship _Argo_

Friday, January 22, 2202

0929 Hours Spacetime

* * *

The _Argo_ was now finally nearing the huge tangle of primitive stars and gasses that was the Octopus Star Group. 

"That looks horrible," said Orion as he looked up at the main screen. "How far away are we from that thing?"

"Just about seventy-five Astronomical Units, or AU's," said Venture. "We're about the width of one small solar system away from the far edge of the active gasses, over there. And this area is a gravitational mess. Luckily, we found one safe warp course out of this tangle of stars and gasses."

"Sir, we're not going to get caught in there again, are we?" asked Parsons.

"Not this time, Holly," said Venture. "Captain, if I can have everyone gather around the starboard aft screen?"

Derek nodded, getting up from his Captain's chair as the rest of the bridge crew came over to the large screen in the aft starboard bulkhead of the First Bridge, not far from Parsons' station.

Venture tapped at a keypad in the bulkhead, and an image of the Octopus Group came up on the smaller screen. He pointed at it with a retractable pointer he had pulled out of a pocket of his slacks.

"This is where we are," said Venture. "75 AU's out from the far edge of the gas cloud...about here. If we get in much closer than that, we'd really start feeling the gravitational effects of the Group. As it is, we're already being slowly pulled towards it. And, if I'm not mistaken, it looks more active than usual. Nova, did you finish those astro-meterogical scans on it?"

"Yes, I did," she said. "There's an active storm raging. Heavy magnetic effects, gasses all over the place, strong solar winds raging in there. What we _don't_ want to do is get caught up in that mess again. The storm's worse than it was the last time we were here."

"Luckily, we're just at a point where we can execute a warp around it. We couldn't have done this in 2199 with our lower-powered wave motion engine, but we can do it with the uprated _Andromeda_-class engine we now have in the ship," said Venture. "Miss Parsons, Mrs. Wildstar and I have laid in a parabolic warp course that'll take us out ten lightyears in this direction," he said, showing the course with a pointer. "All I need to do is make sure that nothing has changed with the time-space curve with the chronograph, then we can execute a warp right out of here. Then, we can warp out in six minutes."

"Good job," said Captain Wildstar. "Okay, everyone...let's get ready for that space warp."

They saluted Derek and took off for their posts.

"Wave engine, energy buildup is commencin'," said Orion.

"Attention, all hands," said Captain Wildstar over the intercom. "Secure all stations for space warp. We will be warping in six minutes."

Over the whine of the energy buildup, Venture began to check his instruments. "Course laid in...good...checking the chronograph..."

Mark flipped on the screen that showed the time-space curve near the area. "Looks normal...not bad...We're getting right up to the warp-out point on here, we can warp out in five..."

Suddenly, the indicator screen switched from its normal color to red and it began to beep.

"_Huh_?" said Venture. "What's this? The time-space curve is off! Parsons...Sandor...Nova...come here and look at this!"

The three confused officers got up and ran over to Mark's bridge station.

"What?" said Nova. "Holly, look. It's not a sine wave!"

"No, it's not, " replied Holly. "Sandor, what could be doing this? None of our scans showed anything like _this_!"

"Miss Parsons, Mrs. Wildstar, were you two _asleep_ at the switch when you did these scans?" snapped Venture irritably.

"Well, I did _my_ job right, Mark," said Nova as she looked at Holly through narrowed eyes.

"I didn't do anything wrong on _my_ part," shot back Parsons as she gave Nova a dirty look.

"Okay, ladies, can we redo those scans and recalculate that course?" asked Venture.

"Hmmm..." said Sandor. "I'm not sure that'd work. And it's not anyone's fault. The space around here has become distorted. The time-space curve is unexpectedly asymmetrical. The point of symmetry is now reached in at about 20 AU's towards the Star Group...which, given the mass of the eight stars, and the strength of the storm, is far too close to make a safe warp."

"_Twenty_?" said Captain Wildstar as he came up.

"Yes. We can't warp from there," said Sandor. "Not with the storm like this, anyway."

"So, what does _this_ mean?" snapped Derek. The doors to the bridge opened, and Aliscea came in. She now had her shoes on and had a less-disheveled appearance. She walked over and stood beside Paul Rosstowski, gently hugging her depressed-looking husband at his post as the conversation went on.

Nova and Holly looked at the deck with downcast eyes. Venture cleared his throat. "Well, Derek...uhhh... the warp we were considering is now impossible. We're stuck in here again until the storm subsides."

"That can't be! Can't we change course and warp from another direction?" said Derek.

Parsons was nudged aside by Sandor as he, Venture, and Nova studied screen after screen at the Navigation post for about three minutes. At one point, Mark asked Nova to go over to the Astro-Compass and call off long strings of numbers as he ran projections on the compass...the little model of the _Argo_ swung around in direction after direction in the little dome as point after point appeared on the Astro-Compass.

"And what's that last projection?" asked Venture.

"RPD 324 point 5642, Mark," said Nova. "That's right at eight stellar minutes, fifty-two seconds of longitude."

Rosstowski got up and watched the complex calculations, followed by his wife. "I think you guys lost me about five minutes ago. Parsons, if you don't mind, what the Dickens are they doing?"

"They're trying to see if there's another point we can warp out at around here. Wish they'd stick _me_ in that little _pow-wow_ of theirs," snorted Holly.

"Yes. That makes two of us," said Aliscea. "I know how to navigate, too."

"Holly...Aliscea," whispered Rosstowski. "They're real big on seniority in this outfit, that's why you've both been excluded."

"Yeah...I could help them out," said Holly miserably. Aliscea said nothing, but she just played with Paul's hair in a dejected fashion as she watched everyone working.

Venture looked at everything and shook his head.

"No good, Captain Wildstar," said Venture. "If we were to warp out of here, we'd have to travel around the black cloud in normal space and then go out to this point, here, out beyond the gravitational pull." he said, making a graphic appear on the main screen. "But that'd take us fifty-five days. Fifty-five very _long_ days."

"What if we tough it out and wait here?" asked Derek. "And what if we go out through that channel we used the last time?"

"We could do that, but I'm not sure about the environmental factors. That's Nova's department. Nova?"

"Well, we _could_ do that," said Nova after she stood biting her lower lip for a moment. "I estimate that with the higher radiation factors, we can stop about 20 AU's away from the huge red Octopus Group Stars; no closer. We'll also have to build new techtite shielding like in 2199 to help shield the crew from the radiation. Then, we just wait the storm out and go through the channel. It should clear up in twenty-three days, based on our calculations."

Derek said, "We're either stuck here again...or we have to make a longer journey around the black cloud, right?"

Sandor nodded. "Yes...we'd be here for at least twenty-three days; based on what we now know about the storm cycle. Basing this on what we learned about the storm in 2199, Nova and I think it should clear around then."

"And there's that channel," mused Derek. "What I called the Wildstar Channel when I discovered it."

Nova then asked the obvious question. "Derek...when the storm clears...is the channel we used still clear? Can we still get _out_ that way? Or should we consider another path, around that black cloud or nebula?"

Sandor looked at his screens again, and then said, "As you said, Nova, the storm is stronger this time. Even with our uprated sensors, we can't take scans, and the wind is too high to send even a Tiger, with its greater wingspan, out for sensor sweeps. We'll have to wait until the storm clears to see if the channel is still open. If not...we could be marooned here...for a very long time."

Derek then said, "There's that one course you described, Venture. That's fifty-five days, but we can get out that way. What about turning back and going under the ecliptic of the Milky Way in a different direction? We could try that..."

"Yes, if we want to add at least seventy-five days to the cruise to Iscandar," said Venture. "It's not our best course."

"Mark, why are you always trying to mess things up?" demanded Derek. "Couldn't we take scans of that black cloud?"

"Well, it's not _my_ fault we're here again, Wildstar," he snapped.

"Sure you know your job, Venture?" said Homer.

"Hey...Homer...why don't ye get off the man's back?" said Orion.

"For once, Orion, Wildstar and I agree about something," snorted Homer. "We agree that we have a navigator who doesn't know his _job_!"

"_Shut up_, Homer!" said Venture. "You don't know your butt from a hole in the ground!"

"Yeah? What _about you_?" he snapped back. "Least I know where mine is! Unlike you, you greaser!"

"Glitchman, so help me..." said Venture with clenched fists.

"Help you what?" he said. "Help you find your damned _Italian butt_?"

"Homer, I'm _sick_ of your crap!" snarled Venture. Then, he hauled off and slugged him. Dash cheered, yelling "Go _get_ him, Venture!"

Homer fell to the deck, but then he got up and grabbed Venture by the shirt. "I can outfight you any day!" he roared.

"Yeah, you and what army?" snapped Venture. Captain Wildstar jumped out of his chair and ran over just as Mark threw another punch, and waded in to throw another, but Nova grabbed Venture by the waist and pulled him out of it while restraining one fist with an angry hand. Mark was a bit shocked at the delicate-looking woman's angry strength. Orion got up and grabbed Homer with a strength one would expect from a man half his age.

"Hey, lad, this is the first bridge, cool it!" said Orion.

"Mark, you just _stop_ it!" barked Nova. "Unless you want to try to hit a woman, that is."

"Hey, Nova," said Dash as he came up. "Didn't know you worked as a bouncer."

"Dash, _grow up_!" yelled Nova. "Mark...are you all right?" she said.

"Yeah...but he won't be, next time he rides me like that," snarled Venture.

"Guys...stop it!" snapped Captain Wildstar. "This is getting nowhere! And, if this keeps up, some of you _jerks_ are gonna be on report! Are they subdued, guys?"

Nova and Orion nodded.

"Good, let them go. Thank God _someone's_ got some common sense on this bridge," snapped Derek in disgust. "I'm ashamed of _both_ of you guys," yelled Derek as he stared down Venture and Homer. "Mark, what got into you?" said Derek in a low voice. "_I'm_ usually the one known for slugging people on this ship," said Captain Wildstar with a half-ironic smile.

"His crap," said Venture. "I've had about all I can take of that guy, Derek."

"Later, Venture," said Homer as he snapped his fist into his left hand.

"Homer, you are a very immature officer," barked Wildstar. "Apologize to the ship's Executive Officer now!"

"Sorry," muttered Homer with about as much sincerity as a man caught before a judge.

"See what I mean, Wildstar? Homer, _grow up_," snapped Venture before he turned away. "There'll be time for me to deal with you later."

"That's time we don't have," said Aliscea.

"Especially since we're in a race to get to Iscandar before Ekogaru does," added Sandor.

"So...we'll have to hope it clears in the timeframe you've established, Steve," said Derek. "Homer, you'd better damn well cut the comments. And Mark, you're the XO of the ship. You outrank Homer, but you'd better quit using physical violence for no good reason, huh? Am I right, Sandor?"

Sandor nodded. Nova sighed dolefully, but her eyes brightened a little as she smiled.

"This is a crappy situation, guys. Nova...why are you smiling?" asked Derek.

"Look on the bright side; we can throw another party when we get through the channel...or get out. I'll start planning it. It'll be just like last time."

"Just like last time," said Derek. "Wonder if the rest of the crew'll be fighting again when we're almost done?"

"I've got a fight I'd like to resume_ now_," snapped Homer. "Wanna come down to the gym, Venture?"

"Homer, button your running mouth, or you're on report," snapped Derek. "Nova. Keep an eye on this officer."

"Yessir. But I'd better keep an eye on you and Venture, Derek." said Nova with a wink. "After all, who knows when you guys will start again?"

"We won't," said Derek and Mark together.

Nova gave them a "yeah, _sure_," look and then turned to Holly. "Well?"

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye on them too," said Holly. "Nova, what do you think about hurting them if they try to fight again?'

"Something to consider," mused Nova. "You two, _watch_ it...you're both being watched by your significant others."

"You too, Paul," said Aliscea.

"Guys, I think we're really stuck this time," said Captain Wildstar.

"Least we're stuck with each other," said Nova as she put an arm around her husband's waist.

"Yeah, that's the only bright side of this," said Derek as he affectionately mussed his wife's hair. "Hey, Nova, want an Indian rub?" said Derek in a silly voice as he began to rub the top of his wife's head with his fist. At that, the crew laughed at the break in the tension. Nova knew that was exactly why Derek had done that.

"Oh, grow up," said Nova in a tone of mock annoyance...with a cute smile on her face.

END.

* * *

****

THERE ARE NOW 123 DAYS TO THE ARRIVAL OF EKOGARU IN EARTH'S SOLAR SYSTEM

* * *


End file.
